A Ghost of a Chance
by feeling brave
Summary: Jazz, Wheeljack, Hound, Trailbreaker and the twins have one thing in common; they survived the fall of Perihex because they helped each other, now all they have to do is survive the war. HxTB, JxWJ, RajxTwins, and eventual PxJ
1. Chapter 1

A.N. And disclaimer: To say this story is long or complicated is probably an understatement, it's huge, and a hell of a challenge. The only things this has in common with my other stories is that it will follow the same basic time-line i.e. G1ish and on Cybertron, which is more for the sake of my own sanity (what's left of it), than anything else, and the cast, which do not belong to me, but I've spent a lot of time with them, I love them, and it is my great pleasure to borrow them for a while.

Enjoy. FB.

* * *

><p><span>A Ghost of a Chance<span>

**Prologue**

The last few notes of music faded out and Jazz stepped down from the stage. The ball was in honour of delegates and dignitaries, stiff mechs and femmes who rarely, if ever, seemed to know how to throw a party, but Jazz had enjoyed himself. The crowd might not be as lively as he was used to, but the acoustics were incredible.

There was also something about the room that strummed at his internal workings, he supposed it could have been stage-nerves, but for such a seasoned performer that was unlikely. He tried to tell himself that the feeling was probably caused by the fact that his audience was comprised of some of the most important beings on Cybertron, rather than his usual crowd of music lovers, but he knew it was a lie.

The musician did his best to shake off the odd sensation, but he could feel it tugging at his circuits, telling him that something was different. If he had been a gambling mech he would have said that the dice were rolling, but he had never succumbed to that particular vice.

Across the ballroom he caught sight of a mech with a red chevron hurrying off, and the moment he was through the door the weird feeling vanished, whatever it had been was gone, or had never been there in the first place. With a shrug he walked on, caught the optics of a pretty, little femme who was serving high-grade and smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus scenes – this is not Bluestreak's story, although he will turn up later. I just couldn't resist playing with lil'Blue for a while. The first of these scenes is set shortly after the prologue, the second a vorn or so later.<br>**

* * *

><p>The hub-feeds had been horrifying, there had been no warning, no chance of sending help, and Uraya, a city famed for its prosperity and peacefulness, had burned.<p>

Thousands of lives had been lost in a moment of flame that shaken the ground mega-miles away, and even melted buildings. Early reports had claimed that there were no survivors but then, just as everyone had given up hope, a search and rescue mech had found a sparkling in the wreckage and brought him to Iacon for treatment.

Sentinel Prime had shown a great deal of interest in the sparkling, as soon as he had been found the leader had commed Ratchet and ordered him to oversee his care personally. Since then he had checked in at least three times a cycle for information, and as soon as Ratchet had deemed the sparkling to be healthy enough he had arranged for them to visit him.

Ratchet understood the Prime's concern. In times of trouble it did a 'bot good to focus on the positives, and as the only survivor, the sparkling represented the only good thing to be salvaged from the ruins of Uraya.

The doors to Sentinel Prime's state rooms opened before the medic could knock, and a security mech looked out. "I thought I heard someone coming," he said coolly. "As I'm sure you can appreciate we're taking no chances at this time. You must be Ratchet."

The medic nodded to indicate that he understood and confirm his designation, and was led into the spacious meeting room.

Sentinel Prime rose from his desk as soon as they were inside. "Thank you Prowl," he said graciously before he turned his attention to his visitors.

At the sound of the Prime's powerful voice the sparkling gave a startled cry, wriggled, managed to get free of Ratchets grip, and dashed off.

Ratchet gave chase, cursing quietly and apologising to his leader by turns, Sentinel chuckled softly and assured him that there was no harm done before joining the pursuit.

"Quick, isn't he?" Prowl observed as he started to lock the doors so that the sparkling couldn't get out of the room. "There he is," he added before diving behind one of the chairs and coming up with the sparkling in his arms. "Got you," he smiled.

"Well done Prowl," Sentinel congratulated his subordinate. "All I saw was a tiny streak of blue."

"Bwue, Bwue," the sparkling chirped happily before he started babbling in a mixture of clicks and half-formed, none sequential words.

Ratchet found himself grinning, there was something beautiful in the cheerful voice. "He seems to like that, and I have been wondering what to call him," he commented.

"Blue?" Sentinel queried.

"No," Prowl said in a soft, thoughtful tone. "Bluestreak."

"Bwuetweek," the sparkling repeated with a giggle.

Prowl laughed warmly, then looked at Ratchet with a suddenly worried expression on his faceplates. "What's going to happen to him?" he asked.

"We've tried to find anyone with a connection to him, but we've had no success," Ratchet explained. "Our next task is to find a guardian for him."

"Which is the reason why I asked Ratchet to bring him to me," Sentinel interjected. "My bonded and I have talked at great length, and decided that we will take responsibility for him personally."

Both the medic and the security mech arched optic ridges in surprise, Prowl recovered himself first and stepped forward to hand Bluestreak over, "Sir, I'd like to take this opportunity to offer to help in anyway I can," he said formally.

"As do I," Ratchet added, he didn't have to think about the decision, in just a few cycles he had become very fond of the sparkling, and even thought about taking him in himself if no better home could be found, but Sentinel was a wise and caring mech whom he trusted beyond question so he couldn't argue with the decision.

"Thank you both," Sentinel said gratefully.

Ratchet exchanged a smile with Prowl, and realised that after all the worry of the last few cycles the future suddenly seemed a little bit brighter.

* * *

><p>Of all the duties Prowl had expected to be given as Sentinel Prime's bodyguard, sparkling care had not been one of them. The Prime and his mate were dignified, refined, and old enough for their own offspring to have become creators, but Sentinel was also a kindly mech, and Bluestreak had needed a home.<p>

Possibly more surprising was the fact that Prowl enjoyed his time with the young mech. He found the soft noise of cheerful chatter soothing, and the prim attitude the youngling affected in imitation of his guardian was both amusing and adorable, although Prowl would never mention that.

His current task should have been simple enough, he'd been asked to keep an optic on Bluestreak while Sentinel Prime was away, however the sparkling seemed to have other ideas. First he had, or at least attempted to climb every piece of furniture in his quarters, then he had run around for a few breems until he had literally run into a wall and knocked himself on his aft.

A less determined sparkling would have given up, but not Bluestreak. He had bounced right up again, and decided that his reason for being was to find out just how many of Prowl's data-pads he could fit into the gap between Prowl's desk and the wall behind it. Prowl would later discover that the answer was seven.

After that he had turned his attention to some building blocks that Sentinel had provided, for a few breems the room had been quiet and Prowl had decided to use the time to prepare the young mechs evening energon, taking his optics off Bluestreak was his mistake but unfortunately Prowl didn't realise this until after a block missed his audio by not much at all, bounced off a storage locker and landed in the energon with a splash.

Prowl wiped the liquid from his face and turned to glare at the sparkling, who laughed and dashed off again, this time making a b-line for the small gap under one of Prowl's chairs.

"Bluestreak!" Prowl called, and the little mech came to an immediate halt just short of his target. "That's enough."

Bluestreak pulled himself up to his full height and made a fair attempt at trying to look dignified, a habit that he'd picked up from Sentinel which, although he would never admit it, Prowl thought was rather cute.

"Come on," he said with a fond smile. "Sit down, drink your energon, and then it's time for some recharge."

For a wonder Bluestreak did as he was told and once his ration was gone he curled up on Prowls lap, soon after his engine slowed down to a soft purr, and Prowl could finally relax.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N: Quick update this time as the first one didn't really say much, don't get to used to it. Something I should say is that the title of this story comes from an old Rush song, a favourite of mine from childhood, a song that just about saved my sanity when a long-term relationship of mine went south. I'll put the link up on my profile if anyone is curious.

A mech name Stormrider appears in this chapter, he's one my very few , who I created for one of my other stories. He didn't last long, but I loved the way he brought out the worst in Sunstreaker, I don't know if he'll reappear in this fic or not, I hope so, but he hasn't yet.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 2 <strong>

When performing at a gallery opening had been suggested Jazz had been against the idea. It sounded boring. After all, who wanted to spend their evening looking at a bunch of pictures? But his interest had risen when he arrived.

The crowd was an unusual mix of aristocrats and common 'bots that had confused him until he saw the artist himself, the singer recognised the painter immediately, he'd seen him fight at the state games in Vos, and watched from the crowd as the mech had won bout after bout without showing mercy or fatigue.

Even among such a varied group Sunstreaker was an impressive young mech. Tall, striking, proud and equally comfortable talking to nobility or average clients. Jazz had watched with interest as he had moved around the room, laughing with some, talking seriously with others and generally proving himself to be a good host.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" a quiet voice asked, making the singer jump slightly and turn to see a dignified looking blue and white mech standing behind him.

"He certainly is," Jazz agreed. "Do you know him?"

"Not as well as I'd like," the stranger admitted. "his companions tend to make it difficult for anyone else to get close to him."

Jazz turned his attention back to the crowd, and noticed for the first time that although Sunstreaker seemed to move around freely a brooding, dark grey mech seemed to be guiding him, but subtly enough to be missed by anyone who wasn't watching closely.

"Who is he?" he asked curiously.

"A brute named Stormrider, he was a gladiator before Vos fell, but now he seems content being Sunstreaker's minder. Stormrider guards him fiercely, but even if you manage to get passed him there is still Sunstreaker's brother to contend with."

"Brother?" Jazz questioned. He had heard the term before but it was an unusual word in their society.

"His twin," the anonymous mech expounded. "See the red mech by the painting of The Towers? Sideswipe doesn't like Stormrider so he keeps his distance, but he'd walk into the Infernal Pit before he let Sunstreaker go off alone."

"How do you know so much?"

"As both a patron of Sunstreaker's work and the first-sparked of the governor of Crystal City, I consider it my duty to know everything that may have an effect on society," the mech explained in a somewhat boastful tone.

Jazz smiled to himself as his data-banks used the information he had just received to identify the blue and white mech. "Thanks Mirage." He couldn't help but feel triumphant when he saw slight surprise light the other mech's optics.

"My pleasure," the young noble said politely, "I can introduce you to Sideswipe if you like. He's a good mech really, and you have the advantage that he is a fan of yours."

"Then lead on," Jazz prompted.

Fierce optics turned to look at Jazz as he and Mirage approached the red mech, the black and white smiled disarmingly and let the noble introduce them, while he studied his new acquaintances posture. He quickly noticed the similarities between Sideswipe and his twin, and also realised that there was something deeper than the confidence that both brothers displayed.

Once the pleasantries were out of the way, and Mirage had wandered off in search of more high-grade, Jazz lowered his voice so that he wouldn't be over heard and said, "There's more to tonight than looking at paintings, isn't there?"

Sideswipe shot him a wary look, seemed to find genuine concern and nodded. "Have you noticed that there isn't one Autobot in the room? There are a few neutrals, but everyone else is a Decepticon."

"And neutral doesn't always mean trustworthy," Jazz finished for him. "What about Mirage?"

"You can count on Mirage for three things," Sideswipe answered with a humourless smirk. "Reliable information, good high-grade and great interfacing, but his only loyalties are to Crystal City and his creators."

"Thanks for the heads-up," the singer nodded. "Anything else?"

"You should probably know that the only mech I usually trust is Sunstreaker, and I'm not even sure about him right now," the red mech hissed. "See the mech he's talking to? His name is Straxus, he's running for governor in Polyhex, but I remember him from Vos. He was often in the stalls of the arena, and although he doesn't wear an insignia he is a Decepticon to the core."

Jazz shuddered involuntarily. He had no interest in the war that was slowly gaining momentum and seemed inevitable, but he was no lover of Decepticons either. "I've seen the damage they've done in other cities," he said quietly. "I don't want what happened in Vos or Kaon to happen here."

"Don't forget Uraya," Sideswipe said grimly.

Jazz shuddered; there was no chance of that. It had been a long time since anyone had said that city's name in his presence. No one liked thinking about Uraya anymore, and Jazz's few true friends knew that he didn't need reminding. It had been twenty vorns since the city had been destroyed as a show of Decepticon power, but Jazz's memories of his one-time home would never fade.

* * *

><p>Soon after the show ended and Jazz headed out into the night, found a nearby bar and ordered a serving of energon to settle his circuits, which had felt tense since his conversation with Sideswipe.<p>

He was heading back to his accommodation when he heard a muffled cry for help, his feet started running before he even thought about what he was doing. Ahead of him four mechs were attacking a fifth, and although Jazz knew little about fighting he felt that someone should help the unfortunate 'bot.

Seeing it as his best option he transformed and aimed his alt-mode at two of the attackers, knocked them over, spun, reverted to his robot form and using the strength and grace that years of dancing had given him kicked out hard for another one before he realised who he was saving.

Sideswipe jumped back to his feet, flashed him a grateful smile, and snatched up a dropped laser-knife, "Back off slaggers!" he yelled. "I learned how to use this in the Arena, and I will kill the next mech who tries to lay a hand on me."

The four mechs seemed to decide that continuing the fight was useless, transformed into their alt-modes and sped off.

"You alright?" Jazz asked warily.

"Fine thanks to you," Sideswipe nodded.

"What was that all about?"

"No clue," the red mech admitted. "But I don't think we should wait around here," he led Jazz down a few streets, and let them into a small block of living quarters.

Sunstreaker looked up from his place on the grey mech's lap as they passed through the door. "Hey Sides, I didn't think you were coming back tonight," he said before he inspected his twin more closely. "What happened?"

"Four mechs decided that they didn't like my paint-job," Sideswipe snapped. "Stormrider, you know I hate to interrupt, " he addressed the mech in a sarcastic tone. "But I think you should go."

"Sunstreaker and I have plans for tonight," the mech hissed.

"Like I give a frag," Sideswipe snarled. "Get out!"

Jazz shifted awkwardly as the furious mech stormed passed him, and Sunstreaker seemed to notice him for the first time, "What's he doing here?" he asked.

"The mech saved my aft, least I could do was give him somewhere to recharge, and if _you_ hadn't been so busy with Stormrider you might have noticed, then I wouldn't have needed _him_, so don't argue."

Sunstreaker at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself and sank back into his seat, "I'm sorry," he muttered sullenly. "But if you wanna know he wanted me to bond with him tonight."

"What!" Sideswipe exclaimed. "Sunny there is no way the two of you are ready for that, you haven't even been together for a vorn, and bonding isn't something you rush into headlong."

"I know," his twin nodded. "But he was so insistent, like it was now or never, I guess I got caught up, but you're right."

"I usually am Sunny, unlike you I think with my processor, not my interfacing cable."

"Says the mech who dragged home a 'bot twice his age," Sunstreaker smirked.

"It's not like that," Sideswipe protested.

"That'd be a first."

"You're still thinking about going after him, aren't you?" the red twin asked disbelievingly.

Sunstreaker nodded, "I love him Sides," he said quietly.

Reluctantly Sideswipe stepped away from the door, "Then go, but for the love of Primus don't bond him yet."

The golden mech didn't look back as he left.

Once he was gone Jazz felt the need to break the heavy silence, "It ain't my place to say but…"

"You're right, it's not," Sideswipe interrupted him. "Sunny isn't the kind of mech you stand in the way of. He's a stubborn glitch, but he will work things out eventually. In the meantime I need some recharge. Your berth is through there," he finished with a tired gesture to another door.

* * *

><p>Jazz came back online suddenly, the first thing he became aware of was that his berth was shaking and there was a strange rumbling in the distance. He sprang out of his bunk, and looked out of the view-port to see fires lighting the sky.<p>

"What in the name of Primus…" Sideswipe muttered as he entered the room and moved to stand beside him.

For a moment the two mechs stood transfixed. Neither mech spoke, but both were aware of the fear that the other felt.

"Is that laser fire?" Sideswipe asked to break the heavy silence.

"I think so," Jazz nodded without looking away from it. "And it's moving toward us. You know this city better than I do, is there anywhere we can go?"

"There's a Security Squad not far from here, most of them are Autobots, and we'll be safer with them than on our own."

"Lead on," Jazz said encouragingly, and they tore themselves away from the terrifying sight.

Outside the streets seemed to have descended into chaos, the stench of burning over-powered their olfactory senses, the noise of fighting and panicking 'bots all but deafened them, and the harsh light of laser fire left streaks across their visual displays.

They transformed and sped off to what they hoped would be safety, but as they neared their destination an explosion ripped through the ground between them, sending Jazz into an uncontrollable spin that only halted when he smashed into a substantial wall.

Sideswipe switched back to his robot mod and ran to his side. "Oh Primus," he hissed as he saw the state that the older mech was in. "Jazz, can you hear me?"

The black and white's only answer was a low moan.

"Jazz we can't stay here," Sideswipe insisted. "Either you move or I'm carrying you."

The musician let out a pained hiss of static as he tried to reactivate his propulsion systems, but found them disabled so with a sickening screech of metal on metal he transformed back, and stumbled to his feet. "I'm going to regret doing that later," he muttered, talking more to himself than his companion, and nursing his shoulder with the only hand he was able to move.

Sideswipe could only nod and lend his support to the injured mech. They moved off again at a slow pace, but only made it a few steps before a voice from nowhere yelled, "Get down!"

Jazz reacted first and slammed his body into Sideswipe, knocking him over just as a laser shot ripped through the space where the red twin had been.

Laying face down, with the singer's weight pinning him, Sideswipe couldn't see a thing, but he heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming toward him and tensed, ready to strike if it turned out to be an enemy. Rough hands pulled him to his feet, and the same voice that had called out the warning gave him the gruff order of, "Come with us if you want to live."

He looked around to see that two new mechs had joined them, he was relieved to see that the one that had hauled him up was a member of the Security Squad and wore an Autobot insignia, the second mech didn't have anything like that, but he was holding Jazz's offline form in his arms carefully, and had just saved his life.

"I'm Sideswipe," he said as the green security mech led them to a safer place. "And that's Jazz."

"Hound," the green mech answered curtly. "The two of you were lucky, if Wheeljack hadn't seen you when he did…"

"I know," Sideswipe agreed. "Is Jazz okay?"

"He needs a medic, but he'll live," Wheeljack answered gruffly. "In here," he led the other two mechs into a small building and laid Jazz out on a workbench.

"This place is a pit," Sideswipe snapped, "I thought you said he needed a medic."

"He does, but I'll have to do for now," Wheeljack answered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3 **

For the better part of half a cycle Wheeljack worked tirelessly, while Hound and Sideswipe took turns to keep watch for their enemies. Not much was said between them; they weren't friends after all.

Sideswipe had, at one point, confessed to Wheeljack that he barely knew the delicately built black and white, but a little later he had added that when Jazz had pushed him down he had saved his life for the second time in less than a cycle.

These statements intrigued Wheeljack, with heavier armour and a larger, stronger build the red mech looked more than capable of taking care of himself. In Wheeljack's processor several ideas presented themselves; either Sideswipe was careless, or Jazz was one of three things; lucky, smarter than he looked, or had the makings of a hero, whichever it turned out to be Wheeljack was sure of one thing - once Jazz was back online things were going to get interesting.

During this time he regularly found himself missing his lab and its equipment, but that building had been reduced to rubble early in the attack, all he had left were a few personal bits and pieces that he kept in his subspace. Eventually though all of his hard work paid off, and the black and white's optics flickered into life.

"What in the name of Primus happened?" Jazz asked as he sat up sluggishly, and looked around.

"Decepticons mostly," Sideswipe answered from his seat in the corner. "Wheeljack and Hound helped us after you got knocked offline saving me."

Jazz looked at the white, red, and green mech standing over him, "Thank you," he said gratefully. "Which are you?"

"Wheeljack," the mech answered, "Hound's outside, but I think it's time to call him in. Now that you're back online we need to decide what we're doing next."

"We?" Jazz asked as Sideswipe slipped out of the room.

"Sticking together seems like the better idea," Wheeljack answered coolly, "I didn't spend most of the cycle repairing you for you to go off alone and get slagged again."

The black and white smirked. "Trust me," he grinned. "I don't make the same mistake twice."

"Maybe not, but there are plenty more for you to make," Wheeljack countered.

"But that's half the fun," Jazz protested.

"This isn't supposed to be fun," a heavily built green mech snapped as he walked in. "The Decepticons took the city while you were getting put back together, and I doubt that it'll take them more than a couple of cycles to find us. We need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving without Sunny," Sideswipe snapped.

"Who?" Wheeljack asked before he shook his head. "Never mind. Look youngling I know it may not seem like it, but you've got plenty of time to find someone else."

"He isn't my lover," Sideswipe snapped indignantly. "He's my spark-twin, I couldn't leave him behind even if I wanted to, and just because you're old enough to be my creator doesn't mean you get to tell me how to feel."

"Twins," Wheeljack echoed. "Well, that puts a different spin on things, but that doesn't improve your chances, you'd still have to find him and avoid the Decepticons neither of which will be easy."

"I could find Sunny if he was the other side of the planet," Sideswipe sneered. "And I have enough combat training to take care of any Decepticons that get in my way."

"Where on Cybertron would anyone give a youngling combat training?" Hound asked.

"The gladiator rings of Vos," Sideswipe retorted haughtily. "And the next mech to call me youngling gets a personal show."

Hounds optics widened in surprise. "You're a gladiator?"

"I was," Sideswipe corrected him. "Sunny and I both were, but we left Vos after Sunny got his aft handed to him, just in time as it happened. The city fell to the Decepticons a few cycles later. Either of you old-timers ever heard of Sunstreaker?"

Recognition flickered in both of their new acquaintances optics.

"Well, I'd say that your odds just went from not-worth-scrap to slim," Wheeljack put in. "But we still need an escape route."

"I may be able to help there," Jazz said thoughtfully. "A friend of mine has a shuttle, and he owes me a favour. Do the comms still work?"

"Not round here," Hound informed him. "But the 'Cons wouldn't have cut them completely, they still need them."

"Are you saying that we have to get inside the Decepticon's new base?" Wheeljack exclaimed. "Hound I know you've got military training and Sideswipe says he can fight, but I'm a scientist and Jazz is a… what do you do?"

"I'm a musician," Jazz answered.

"But he can fight, I've seen him," Sideswipe added.

"That was more blind luck than anything else, but I learn fast. Best thing we can do is take the rest of the cycle to teach 'Jack and I the basics, come up with a plan and make a start after some recharge," Jazz suggested. He paused long enough for Sideswipe and Hound to nod, and looked at Wheeljack. "You said you were a scientist, do you know anything about weapons or explosives? I'm not thinking of creating an arsenal but anything is better than nothing, right?"

"Not my best subject, but I might be able to patch something together," Wheeljack answered. "Let's get to it."

As Wheeljack worked he kept an optic on Jazz, Sideswipe and Hound. The three of them had quickly cleared a space and started the musician's training, for a while the black and white's inexperience was obvious, but he did learn quickly and his mistakes were never repeated.

The thing that captured Wheeljacks attention though was the way he moved, when they actually started sparring Jazz was in a class of his own, out shinning Sideswipe's quick and potentially lethal style and Hound's efficient, calculated method. Jazz was graceful, he didn't seem to need to think about what he was doing, and one move blended seamlessly into the next, almost as if he was dancing.

_If he keeps that up we might actually stand a chance,_ Wheeljack mused, _no harm in hoping anyway._


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

There was little time for recharge that night, no one felt safe enough to rest anyway.

Wheeljack, Jazz and Sideswipe left the safety of their hiding place. They had decided that Hound's Autobot insignias would draw unwanted attention so he had been left behind.

They stuck to the back streets and alleys as much as they could as they warily followed Sideswipe, after barely dodging two Decepticon patrols Jazz came up with the idea of travelling by roof-top instead, which meant that they were only in danger of Seekers seeing them, but the airborne forces were louder, and with Jazz's excellent hearing they were easily avoided.

"I'm picking up the comms signal," Jazz informed them happily.

"Can you use it without being discovered?" Wheeljack asked.

The musician grinned. "Even if the Decepticons did find my message, they wouldn't know what it meant or who sent it, charm and good looks only get you so far, you know?"

Wheeljack nodded in agreement, _I guess he is smarter than he looks,_ he thought as he and Sideswipe waited for Jazz to do what he had to.

It wasn't long after that when Sideswipe pointed down into the street, "There he is," he grinned.

"Which one?" asked Wheeljack. "There are three of them down there,"

"The yellow one," Sideswipe answered. "You'd think even have the sense to hide though."

"Let's get a little closer," Jazz suggested.

"He's my brother, he won't hurt me," the red mech snapped.

"But we don't know who the others are," Jazz pointed out. "You've told me that he doesn't always choose his friends wisely."

The small group snuck closer, until Jazz pulled them up short with a whispered, "Oh no."

"What is it?" Wheeljack asked.

Sideswipe peered down and studied his brother, his spark dimmed as he saw the cruel purple insignia of the Decepticons on his twin's chest plate, for a moment he couldn't move or think, he felt completely detached from everything except the dread that filled his spark. "Sunny what have you done?" he whispered fearfully.

It was Jazz who pulled him back into reality, the singer laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll get him back," he said gently, "And teach him to chose his friends more carefully in the future."

"That's defiantly a lesson he needs," Sideswipe agreed.

"So what do we do?" Wheeljack asked.

"I need to talk to him," Sideswipe answered, "We've got to get down there."

"Let's just hope he listens," Wheeljack mumbled as the three mechs clambered back down to street level. "Or this could get really ugly."

Sideswipe stepped out first. "Hey Sunstreaker!" he called to get his brothers attention.

"A neutral," one of the other Decepticons barked. "Get him!"

"Three neutrals actually," Jazz informed him coolly, somehow he managed to sound confident even though he had never felt so scared in his life. "But we don't want any trouble, just a few moments with your yellow friend."

"I've got nothing to say to you," Sunstreaker snarled. "Except that it would be a lot easier if you didn't put up a fight."

"Would you listen to yourself?" Sideswipe exclaimed in exasperation. "You're no 'Con Sunny, you've just spent so much time with Storm that you don't know what you believe anymore."

"It's better than being a neutral," Sunstreaker said haughtily. "I've been promised glory, what have you got Sides? Hope that this war will just pass us by? Use your optics Sideswipe, or your processor for once, refusing to chose a side will only get you deactivated."

"I've chosen," Sideswipe said coldly. "In the last cycle I've seen courage and loyalty like we've never known Sunny, and as soon as we get out of here I'm signing up to the Autobots."

"Fool," one of the other Decepticons hissed.

"Shut up," Wheeljack snapped. Usually he was a tolerant mech, he was quiet, thoughtful and had spent most of the last few vorns in his lab, but all that was gone. The Decepticons had defiled his city, demolished his lively-hood, and he didn't really have much left to lose.

"Why should I take orders from some helpless neutral?" the Decepticon barked.

"Neutral doesn't mean helpless," Jazz put in. "He's already taken care of a few of your comrades, and has no misgivings about adding to that number."

Wheeljack hid his embarrassment as best he could, his face-mask helped. Jazz had made him sound so brave, but the fire-fight he'd managed to get into the cycle before had been one of the most horrendous moments of his life, and the result of a stupid mistake that he had made while he and Hound had been looking for somewhere to hide.

"So you're the group that's been giving us so much trouble," another Decepticon smirked. "We'll be rewarded for bringing them in, get them!"

Jazz was thankful that he didn't have time to think as he drew the laser-knife that Wheeljack had made for him and the Decepticons pounced, and that Sideswipe and Hound had given him the benefit of their experience as he had never been in a fight for his life before. He hated violence, and had spent several vorns keeping away from the troubles, but he had realised in the last cycle that running and hiding wouldn't keep him safe forever.

For about a breem the fight seemed to be going in their favour, Jazz got the feeling that Sunstreaker was holding back, maybe he didn't really want to hurt his brother, but as two more 'Cons arrived the musicians spark sank. They were hopelessly outnumbered, and it wasn't long before energy bonds were snapped around his torso as he was thrown roughly to the ground.

"Looks like you should have chosen your friends more carefully," Sunstreaker sneered as he looked down at the three beaten mechs.

Wheeljack and Sideswipe glowered at the golden mech, but Jazz looked more closely at one of the new arrivals and smiled mirthlessly. "Sunstreaker, how can you say that when you're fighting shoulder to shoulder with one of the mechs that tried to deactivate your brother?" he asked in a calm tone.

"What?" the golden warrior demanded.

"I was there, remember?" the black and white continued. "And I'm telling that the blue mech at your side was one those who attacked Sideswipe."

Sunstreaker turned to the unfortunate mech with a menacing glint in his optics, he didn't ask whether or not what Jazz had said was true, there was no mercy or hesitation in his movements, and before anyone else realised what was going on the mech was lying in a pool of his own energon as sparks spluttered sickeningly from a gaping hole in his chest plate.

"No one hurts my brother," he snarled as he took a protective stance over his twin.

Jazz felt Wheeljack shift a little closer to him and all at once the bonds disappeared. _Thank you Primus,_ Jazz thought quickly. _Of all the mechs I could have been lumped with in this disaster you gave me the genius that is Wheeljack. You must actually want me to get out of this. _Jazz had never really thought of himself as a religious mech, but he was starting to wonder.

Sideswipe was the first to move, taking his place next to his twin and proving that he was almost as fearsome as Sunstreaker. Jazz bounced to his feet and struck out hard at the nearest Decepticon, with Wheeljack close behind him, but it was the twins fighting together that made the difference, and it wasn't long before their enemies were vanquished.

Sunstreaker stood over the barely online bodies of the fallen with a disgusted scowl on his handsome faceplates. Sideswipe clapped him on the shoulder to get him moving, "I say we get Hound and get gone, sound good to you?"

"Who's Hound?" the golden twin asked.

"A good mech," Sideswipe answered. "Now move, it won't be long before more 'Cons come along."

The four mechs raced through the streets, and were joined by Hound a few breems later. "Thought I heard you coming," he said in explanation of his appearance. "But did you have to bring them with you?" he asked urgently pointing up at a group of Seekers on the horizon.

"It's not like we sent them an invitation," Jazz retorted. "But killing mechs tends to frag other mechs off," he winced inwardly at how casual he sounded. Less than two cycles ago he never would have thought about harming another Cybertronian, but his world had been turned on its head since then. He'd been hurt, almost deactivated, every system he had had been pushed to its limit and worst of all his nice, safe life had been utterly destroyed.

He forced his processor to focus on the present, something was wrong, he was sure of it, the Seekers followed them relentlessly, but they weren't attacking, _why? _Jazz wondered, _are they afraid? Unlikely, we're outmatched and out-gunned, so why don't they move in? Unless…_

"Jazz what are you doing?" Wheeljack demanded to know as the black and white transformed back into his robotic mode and stopped dead.

Jazz didn't answer. As a musician he had spent his life listening to the world around him, finding the patterns, learning that one note in the right place could mean the difference between a masterpiece and a cacophony, and in that moment he thanked Primus that he had been gifted with a pair of the most sensitive audio receptors on his planet, because something ahead of them sounded wrong.

"There," he whispered, and in the same astro-second he snatched the laser-knife out of his sub-space again, and threw it into the shadows with all his strength. A cry of agony and shock answered the dull thud of the weapon hitting its target.

Wheeljacks optics flickered in surprise, "How…?" he asked in a baffled tone.

"This cycles lesson seems to be that if something seems to easy it's probably because someone's a step ahead of you," Jazz replied in a tight voice, he couldn't admit it but he was about ready to purge his tanks; the mech was dead and he had caused it. "Keep going but be careful. There's probably more where he came from."

The words of warning had barely left his vocaliser when Sunstreaker swerved violently, transformed and opened fire with a feral snarl. His twin was right behind him and the two Decepticons that were waiting for them never stood a chance.

Jazz cast one last glance at the Decepticon that he had killed. "Primus, forgive me," he whispered sorrowfully before he looked back to the twins and the remains for their opponents. "Forgive us all," he added before they transformed again and sped off as if the Unmaker himself was right behind them.

* * *

><p>A.n. So glad that some of you seem to be enjoying this so far. The chapters will start getting longer soon, and some of the relationships will start around the same time, and that means I will have to up the rating, I'm not segregating it like I did last time as I don't think the story will make sense if I do. You have been warned, and I hope you keep reading. Until next time, take care, FB.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Half a mega-mile out of the city Jazz gave a sudden cry of delight. "We have comms!" he informed them in a gleeful tone. "'Breaker says he can't land in this. He's going to make a low pass, and we'll have jump for it,"

"Is he insane?" Wheeljack asked scornfully.

"He's one of the most rational mechs I know," Jazz chuckled. "Besides, it was my idea."

If he had been in his robot mode Wheeljack could have done several things; shot Jazz a filthy look, shaken his head, or maybe kicked something, but his alt-mode didn't allow such things so he kept driving, and sent up a quick prayer to Primus.

Half a breem or so later the shuttle roared up behind them. "Now!" Jazz signalled.

The twins reacted first, transforming from their sleek alt-modes into their robotic forms in an instant, and a moment later they were scrambling though the open cargo-bay door. Wheeljack followed them quickly with Jazz right behind him, but as the bulkiest and slowest of all of them Hound barely got his fingertips to the hatch.

"Hound!" Jazz cried as he made a grab for the green mechs wrists, but the black and white's lightweight frame wasn't strong enough, and Jazz found himself pulled back. On reflex Wheeljack caught the musician by the waist and managed to take the strain, but it wasn't until a large black mech hurried up, cursed Jazz and his maker, and joined in that everyone was finally hauled aboard.

The four mechs landed in a tangled heap on the deck, Hound was the first to recover his senses and looked down at the unfamiliar mech beneath him with a relieved grin.

"Well this is a new way to meet someone," the black mech said cheerfully. "I'm Trailbreaker."

"Hound," the Autobot introduced himself. "Happy to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," Trailbreaker agreed before Hound started laughing and rolled off him.

"I can't believe it," he said between fits slightly hysterical of giggles that seemed to be caused by pure relief more than anything else. "We're safe."

"So long as we can keep ahead of the Decepticons," Wheeljack muttered as he sat up and shook his head to clear his sensors.

"You just let me worry about them," Trailbreaker assured him. "There's a reason why I'm still in business while a lot of shuttle pilots have given up."

"And what would that be?" Wheeljack prompted him.

"'Breaker's the best," Jazz answered as his yellow optics finally managed to focus.

"That and your idea of getting force-fields installed," Trailbreaker corrected is friend.

"Business must be good if you can afford those," Hound said quietly.

"I had help from a mech with more credits than sense," the black mech told him good-naturedly.

"As they've saved out lives more than once I think they were a good investment," Jazz put in.

Hound looked at the black and white curiously. "You paid for them."

"'Breaker and I have been good friends for a long time," Jazz stated as he met the green mechs optics. "We travel together when we can, but we had a couple of close calls a while back. Long story. The important question at the moment is; is everyone alright?"

Wheeljack looked around the mismatched group, each one of them had gained dents and scratches, Hound sported a laser burn on his shoulder but it hadn't pierced his armour and didn't seem to be bothering him, the twins huddled together nearby but it seemed to him that it was more because they were glad to be back together again than because either of them were hurt. "We seem to be," he nodded. "Are you?"

"I'm fine," the black and white answered, but his movements betrayed him as he staggered to his feet.

"You look like slag," Trailbreaker told his friend once they were all upright.

"Good to see you too 'Breaker," Jazz grinned.

"You know where the berth is, go and get some recharge," the black mech said warmly. "Where are you headed?"

"I received orders to get to Nova Cronum just before everything went crazy," Hound put in.

"It's as good a place as any," Jazz agreed. "Let's get out of here."

He managed to limp three paces before Trailbreaker planted himself firmly between the smaller mech and the helm controls. "Berth. Now," he ordered.

To his credit Jazz managed a cheeky grin, but he clearly didn't have the energy to argue. Wheeljack moved to his side to give him someone to lean on and half carried, half dragged him away from the others.

"Let me take a look at you," the scientist said once they were alone in the rear cabin.

"I'm alright," Jazz insisted.

"The Pit you are," Wheeljack snapped. "Lay down, and shut up."

"I'm not the only one whose had a rough cycle," Jazz muttered as he hoisted himself onto the large berth.

"No, but the twins are taking care of each other, I trust Hound not to do anything too stupid, and I'll be going into recharge just as soon as I've finished with you. Now stop wasting my time," Wheeljack reeled off, he'd finally managed to catch a glimpse of the impressive dent in Jazz's thigh and was determined to fix it before his own low energy reserves took their toll.

A few breems later Wheeljack stood back and examined his work, it wasn't his best, but at least he had relieved the pressure on a sensory node that was the source of Jazz' discomfort. "I'm going to get my head down for a bit," he said tiredly. "If you don't do the same you will find yourself in a whole new world of trouble."

"'Breaker's a big mech," Jazz muttered, the musician was almost recharging already. "There's enough room for two on this thing."

Wheeljack was a little startled, he couldn't remember ever being invited to share a berth so casually, but then he'd never spent two cycles fighting for his life before either, and his exhaustion won over his moral subroutines without any trouble at all. He laid himself down, fidgeted a little to make himself comfortable and initiated his own recharge cycle without saying anything other than a quiet, "Thank you," that he was almost certain went unheard.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack onlined again to the deep rumble of the shuttles engines, and the sound of Hound's laughter, the next thing he noticed was Jazz. The musician had shifted in his recharge and was pressed close to him, looking comfortable and relaxed, reluctantly the scientist disentangled himself and stood up.<p>

There was plenty to admire about the black and white. Sleek armour, handsome features and a charming, good-natured and brave personality made him more than attractive compared to any 'bot that Wheeljack had met in vorns, but Wheeljack was a cautious mech when it came to affairs of the spark and he'd seen no signs of interest from Jazz.

So he left the black and white to recharge for a little longer and headed for the helm. There was no sign of the twins, just Hound and Trailbreaker trading stories and laughing.

Wheeljack had known Hound for a little over a vorn, although they were more occasional drinking partners than close friends, but he had never seen the look that the green mech had on his faceplate before, the Autobot was completely at ease, and wore a warm smile even when he wasn't chuckling. _This Trailbreaker must be some mech,_ he thought idly as he entered the cabin.

"Good timing," the pilot greeted him. "We're almost in comms range of Nova Cronum. How's Jazz?"

"Still recharging, he was worn out," Wheeljack informed him. "The twins?"

"The yellow one didn't want to turn up at an Autobot outpost wearing Decepticon colours, they borrowed my wash rack to sort him out, and I kinda got the feeling that they weren't comfortable around us," Trailbreaker reported.

"I guess we did shut them out a bit," Hound added. "We just started talking and didn't think about them."

"Sunny needed some time out anyway," Sideswipe put in as he stuck his head in. "The last couple of cycles have been rather more eventful than he's used to, and he's never been any good around 'bots he doesn't know."

"How is he?" Wheeljack asked.

"Mostly sorry for all the trouble he caused, and ashamed of himself, but he'd never admit any of that to anyone but me, so that's the closest you're ever likely to get to an apology."

"Sounds like a good mech," Trailbreaker said with just a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"He is," Sideswipe said with conviction. "Once you get to know him, and so long as you don't frag him off."

"I think the less said about the last few cycles the better," Jazz said as he joined them and leant lazily against the door frame. "Let him put everything behind him and move on."

Sideswipe nodded gratefully and left them again.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Hound asked in a cautiously low whisper.

"Maybe not yet," Jazz answered when no one else spoke up, "But he'll shape up, he knows that what he did was wrong, he's not proud of himself, and that's a good sign after a lousy start."

With a little help from Wheeljack, and the twins close behind him, Jazz limped down the gang-plank. There were mechs everywhere, _not just mechs,_ the black and white reminded himself, _Autobots._ All around them the lives of hundreds of Autobots carried on in the fortress like city.

"Welcome to Nova Cronum," a commanding voice greeted them. "I'm Ultra Magnus and all that you see here is mine to protect, so I'll have your designations before you go any further."

"I'm Hound," the only true Autobot among them said confidently as he stepped forward so that his insignias could be seen clearly. "These mechs wish to join up."

"Are they worth the trouble of training?" Ultra Magnus asked as if the others couldn't hear him.

"They survived Perihex and gave the 'Cons a few problems on the way out," Hound reported. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are fair fighters, Wheeljack is an engineer with a knack for improvisation, Trailbreaker here is an excellent pilot, and Jazz is full of surprises," he finished with a grin.

Ultra Magnus looked at the black and white more closely, "The Jazz?" he asked, "The musician?"

"That's me," Jazz confirmed, "but I'm thinking that it's time for a change in career."

Ultra Magnus almost smiled, "Not a 'bot here is what they were created to be. We'll get those of you that need it patched up, and then see what you're made of."

"Ultra Magnus," Hound said hesitantly, "With your permission I'd like to stay with them, we work well together and I believe that we have the makings of our own unit. Not one of us would have made it out of Perihex without the others."

"No doubt with yourself as unit commander," Ultra Magnus said with a smirk.

Hound shook his head, "Jazz is our leader," he said confidently, and on seeing the brief flash of confusion in Ultra Magnus' optics he repeated, "As I said the mech's full of surprises."

The blue and red mech cast another considering look over the group and nodded. "I'll take it into consideration. Jazz, I'll set up a formal interview with you in the next few cycles. Until then, farewell."

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus scene – up to this point this chapter has been written for ages, the next bit was done today as I sat in the park, and was inspired by a review from Bluebird Soaring, which got me wondering whether or not I was making our mechs transition from civilians to warriors too easy, it's not, Jazz just likes to make it sound that way. I'm not sure if it's necessary or not, but I kind of like how it came out.<strong>

* * *

><p>Ultra Magnus barely looked up from his data-pad as the door chimed, he knew who it would be, but he didn't feel any enthusiasm. It had been a long time since he had felt that particular emotion. He had been such an idealist once; he had taken on the role as governor of Nova Cronum thinking that he could turn it into a prosperous, beautiful city, agreed to Sentinel Prime's idea of using it as a Special Operations Base in the hope that it would help end the war, but the war had been going on for vorns now, and the city was still little more than a run-down outpost.<p>

"Enter," he called, and a mech he had met the cycle before swaggered in. Jazz was all confidence and exuberance. _Can't he see that he's nothing more than another volunteer heading for slaughter?_ The city commander mused. He'd met so many mechs like Jazz, only a few of them were still alive.

"A pleasure to see you again sir," Jazz said cheerfully.

_This mech won't last a quarter of a vorn,_ Magnus decided, _maybe I could get him entertaining the troops, that would keep him out of trouble, and it might even boost moral._

"Our medics seem to have done a good job on your leg," Ultra Magnus observed.

"First rate," Jazz agreed. "Wheeljack did his best, but there's only so much he could do with no spare parts, and he's a scientist not a medic. What did you want to see me about?"

"Do you actually know what Special Ops units do?" Magnus asked bluntly.

"In brief they work behind enemy lines, gather information, sabotage plans and basically do the jobs that no one else wants to do," Jazz answered quickly.

Ultra Magnus was surprised, Jazz's description was vague, but he hadn't really expected an answer. "Do you have any experience at all?"

"Other than Perihex?" Jazz asked. Magnus had read Hound's report, and had been mildly impressed with the mech's bravery, although he was fairly sure that Jazz hadn't really understood how much danger he had been in. "Not really," Jazz continued, "I haven't even fired a pistol since I was at the Academy."

For a brief moment Ultra Magnus was too shocked to speak; Jazz didn't look or act like an Academy 'bot.

"I dropped out," Jazz admitted, "I only went to keep my creators happy, and when they moved off-world permanently I couldn't see the point of carrying on, it was thirty-odd vorns ago, there wasn't a war then."

"You could have volunteered when Kaon fell," Magnus pointed out.

"I was busy being famous and stupid," Jazz explained with disarming honesty.

Ultra Magnus almost chuckled, and summoned up Jazz's records on a whim. His optics widened as he read the impressive marks the singer had achieved, he hadn't done much better himself. _Half a vorn,_ he gave the black and white charitably, _maybe a whole one if he's lucky._ "And after that?"

"The next major victory for the Decepticons was Uraya eight vorns later," Jazz said, and a sudden sadness lit his golden optics. "I lost some very dear friends in the fires."

Something in his tone told Ultra Magnus that this was an understatement. _He lost more than that,_ he realised, _a lover perhaps._

"For a long time after that I was in no fit state to fight," Jazz continued. "I got used to running, I hoped and prayed for peace, but I understand now that the golden age is over, and that if peace comes again it will be hard won. I don't like it, but I hope I can help."

_Another idealist,_ Ultra Magnus surmised, _at least he's not as jaded as I am._ "You're not afraid," it wasn't a question.

"No. I'm worried that I may have left it too late, but there's nothing I can do about that." Again Jazz's golden optics held nothing but honesty. Ultra Magnus looked into them and remembered when his had been almost the same colour, he had been so full of hope then, but nearly all of it was gone, the vorns in between had stolen it away, and he had been so busy that he barely noticed.

"I'm willing to give you a trial," he said a little reluctantly. "I'll put you through the training and we'll go from there."

"Thank you sir."

"Dismissed," he said curtly.

"Permission to say one more thing?" Jazz asked with a formality that the city commander had never expected to come from the black and white.

"Granted."

"I swear by the Matrix and my faith in Primus to uphold Autobot law, to serve the Prime with loyalty and courage, and to do my duty for my planet and it's inhabitants."

The Autobot Oath, usually given just after graduation from the Academy, but Jazz had dropped out shortly before the ceremony according to his records. Ultra Magnus had heard it hundreds of times since his own graduation, but never with such spark-felt determination.

Jazz grinned, saluted and left without another word. Ultra Magnus found himself smiling as the door closed. He added a few notes to the report for the instructors before he sent it off.

"I have a favour to ask," he found himself saying. It had been a long time since he had last spoken to Primus. "You've seen Jazz, He's over-confident and a little naïve, but Primus, if you can spare him, I think he might actually be able to do some good here." With his spark feeling significantly brighter he picked up the next data-pad.

* * *

><p>A.N. The rating will go up with the next chapter thanks to Hound and Trailbreaker. I hope you'll keep reading, thanks for getting this far, take care. FB.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

A.N. This chapter is where the rating goes up, there will be various relationships and interfacing from here on in, you have been warned, if that's not your thing then don't go any further, if you do I hope you enjoy.

I should also say that Steelhaven is not my invention, I found the name while browsing the Transformers wiki, I'm pretty sure that I'm using it in the wrong place in the time-line, but it stuck, the mechs and I like it so it stays. She's not a sparked ship, but Trailbreaker in particular treats her as if she was.

Loving the reviews BTW, it's so nice to hear back from my readers, and even nicer to see new names as well as familiar ones. Take care, FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 6<strong>

Hound paced his new quarters out for what seemed like the hundredth time. He'd memorised it within a breem, but he still felt the need to move. Six steps took him to the wall, where he looked into the polished panel that served as a mirror, before turning back and retracing his steps.

His reflection was the same no matter how many times he looked, except for the few scratches and dents he had acquired in the last few cycles, he looked the same as he had when he received his last upgrades, it didn't seem possible. Nothing else was the same.

He wasn't usually an introspective mech, no one would ever call him a thinker, but he didn't consider himself stupid either. In truth he had always been just Hound, no one really thought much about him at all. He'd been more than a bit surprised when Wheeljack had sought him out when the attack on Perihex had begun, but then Wheeljack didn't really have anyone either.

Hound knew that story; Wheeljack had told him everything about himself during their many visits to a small bar that Hound would have given anything to be in at that moment, but a horribly twisting certainty in his tanks told him that he would never see that place again.

He couldn't dwell on his loses, there were too many of them to count, and as much as it pained him there was no time to mourn. If he let despair embrace him he was sure that it would suffocate him.

His return trip to the berth also took him six steps. He was starting to feel caged in, and Hound had never enjoyed confined spaces. He liked the open air, and he was all too aware that he would not be outside again for at least another cycle. He and the rest of his unit were effectively confined to quarters while their security checks were done, but he wasn't worried about them. Ten vorns in the security services stood him in good stead, he trusted the others, and Ultra Magnus to judge them fairly.

He turned again feeling ridiculous, as well as dejected. He was a mature mech after all, and there was no reason why the four walls should make him uneasy.

His sensitive audios picked up voices in the corridor. There was his answer; a short walk along the passage would soothe his frazzled circuits, and maybe he would find a window. He counted to ten slowly to give whoever it was outside time to get where they were going. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his new comrades, it was that he didn't want them to see him in his present state.

When he stepped out to find the corridor deserted, but he still moved along it quietly until he reached the window at it's end, and relief washed over him. The view outside was of a stark courtyard. It certainly wasn't pretty, but at least it was clear and high above the building the stars shone in the endless black.

Hound relaxed completely, letting his automatic systems do all the work while he gazed up into the darkness.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

Refocusing his optics let him see Trailbreaker's reflection clearly. "Just restless," he answered vaguely, "I'm not used to doing nothing."

"I hear that," Trailbreaker agreed. "It feels very strange to know that I won't be travelling anywhere any time soon."

"You've been a pilot for a long time then?"

"I've worked on shuttles since I was a youngling, and twenty odd vorns ago I got my own."

"And since then you've seen the world."

"At it's best and worst," Trailbreaker confirmed.

"And here's me who's never been out of the city he was sparked in," Hound admitted.

"You've got a chance to see it now," the large mech reminded him. "I suggest you take it before the whole damned planet falls into the Pit." The vehemence in his voice shocked Hound slightly. In the short time they had known each other Trailbreaker had seemed so calm and unflappable. "Sorry," Trailbreaker said when he saw the startled look in the green mechs optics. "It just feels as if my whole world has been turned on it's head in the last cycle. I guess you must feel pretty much the same, except you've had slightly longer to deal with it."

Hound shrugged, he hadn't really had time to think about anything; everything he had done since seeing the first laser fire in the sky had been reaction. _Not yet,_ Hound pleaded with himself, _I can't stop and think yet._ "Perihex was my home," he said simply.

Sympathy flickered in Trailbreaker's optics, and something else, Hound would have called it familiarity, but he wasn't sure. "We've all lost," Trailbreaker said softly, "Jazz and I had friends in Uraya, neither of us dealt with their deaths well, but we survived, and right now that's what you have to concentrate on."

Hound nodded, the theory was good at least. "Thank you," he said genuinely. He turned and actually looked at the big, black mech for the first time. "You've been amazing through all this."

Trailbreaker shuffled in embarrassment, but if anything he moved closer. "I did what anyone would have done."

Hound shook his head and took his hand. "Not many would fly into a city full of 'Cons for a friend and a bunch of mechs he didn't know, you saved my life twice before we'd even been introduced, and then you made me feel more relaxed and comfortable than any mech I've ever met."

Trailbreaker gave him a bashful smile, but his optics shone with true happiness. Hesitantly he reached out with his free hand and caressed Hound's cheek. "You make me feel that way too," he admitted.

Hound nuzzled into the contact. "Are you sure this is the right time for this? I mean we're about to become soldiers, with your friend Jazz as our commander, what would he say about this?"

"Probably 'have at it'. Jazz isn't the type of mech to hold back."

Hound grinned. "Then why should I be?" he asked, although he had no intention of giving Trailbreaker a chance to answer before he launched himself at the larger mech and kissed him forcefully. Trailbreaker responded eagerly, he hadn't really expected such enthusiasm, but he wasn't about to complain about it.

Low moans escaped both of them as their hands roamed freely across each others bodies, neither of them wanted to show any restraint, they were sure that their time together would be brief, processor-blowing, but brief.

It was Trailbreaker who decided that they shouldn't really interface in the corridor, and shoved Hound into his quarters without breaking the kiss. They didn't make it to the berth. Hound found himself pressed against the nearest wall, with Trailbreaker's mouth buried in the sensitive cables of his neck, and his own hands pulling the black mech onto him.

"More," he whispered in the other mechs audio, "please," he was close to begging. He needed the contact, needed the thrill, he needed to remind himself that he wasn't one of the hundreds of 'bots who had died in Perihex.

"I like that," Trailbreaker murmured.

"I need you," Hound continued, "I need to feel you, I need to feel, if I can't do that then..." he cut himself, but he still knew that he'd said too much. It was much to his relief that Trailbreaker chose not to press his words, and connected their interface cables instead. White hot desire lit up his circuits.

Losing himself in a lover's embrace was exactly what Hound needed. "More," he pleaded again, and the response he got was perfect, clear and simple passions overwhelmed his complexed thoughts. The overload that followed was amazing, a pure moment of joy and pleasure, but then Hound's other emotions; the sorrow and despair that he had held back since Perihex had fallen hit him like a fist. A large, heavy fist straight to his spark.

"_My city, my home, nearly everyone I know and care for are gone." _Hound realised._ "I'll never walk down those streets and see those familiar faces again. Never sit in my favourite bar at the end of a long cycle, or go to a friends quarters for my evening energon again. Lost, gone, fallen, destroyed. What do I have now?"_

"_Well, there's me," _a gentle, caring voice supplied,_ "and Wheeljack, Jazz and the twins. We'll be here for you. You'll care for us, we'll look out for you, and together we'll get through everything that comes at us."_

"_Not strong enough, not brave enough. How do I go on?"_

"_By finding things to live for."_

"_How are you doing this?"_ Hound asked. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Emotions and stimuli being transferred by interface cables was one thing, but clear words didn't, couldn't make it through.

"_Your firewalls crashed,"_ Trailbreaker explained, _"your emotions became too violent for your programming to cope with, I guess some survival instinct tried to shunt the excess into me, and that compromised your safeguards"_

"I'm sorry," Hound said, speaking aloud for the first time in what felt like an age.

"Don't be," Trailbreaker said reassuringly, "you had no control over it. If anything I'm the one who should be apologising. I felt like I was invading you, but I didn't know what else to do."

It was then that Hound realised that the general feelings of warmth and comfort that had made it possible for him to regain his emotional equilibrium weren't his.

"You could have broken the link, saved yourself from my pain," Hound suggested.

"That didn't even occur to me," Trailbreaker admitted. "I just wanted to help."

"And you did." Hound smiled, and strangely he felt as if he was coming back to life. For the first time since his overload he was aware of what was around him; that they were both lying on the floor, and that Trailbreaker was curled around him protectively and stroking his cheek.

Trailbreaker smiled back at him and relief filtered through the uplink. It was the most intimate experience Hound had ever shared, such things usually only happened in long-term relationships, and more often than not between couples who intended to bond.

"I haven't done this before either," Trailbreaker admitted, and Hound realised that he was responding to his thoughts. Trailbreaker shifted slightly intending to disengage the cables, but Hound stopped him.

"Don't," he whispered, "not yet."

"But we shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be..." Trailbreaker didn't know how to phrase the words, but his emotions were clear. He still found Hound desirable, still wanted to explore more of his body and processor, but he didn't dare ask if they had a future together.

"_We'll only know if we give it a chance,"_ Hound thought, and tentatively he kissed his lover again. The experience was nothing short of incredible, every caress evoked new and complexed desires, each movement sparked fresh waves of lust, and it seemed that it could go on forever, that there was so much more they could discover.

"_I can't take much more of this,"_ Trailbreaker's thoughts cut through the sensations.

"_Then surrender to it,"_ Hound thought back. _"Please."_

"Hound!" Trailbreaker cried out as he overloaded, and the backlash took his new lover over the edge with him.

"That was..." Hound stammered as he began to regain control over his systems.

"Incredible?" Trailbreaker suggested.

"More than that, I don't know the words that cover what we just did."

"Maybe we're not supposed to yet. I mean, we just met, most couples wait vorns to take their firewalls down." There was a regret in his emotions, Hound got the sense that Trailbreaker believed that they'd rushed things and spoilt it, and the thought scared them both.

"Then we'll wait before we do it again," Hound whispered solemnly, "we'll do things right and take our time. I intend to hang on to you."

Trailbreaker disconnected their interface cables before kissing him again. "I'll be here," he said reassuringly.

* * *

><p>The following cycle was a strange one. They came back online still tangled in each other on the floor, and shared a lingering kiss before rising, but once they stepped outside, and back into the world it seemed, they were expected to be professional, restrained, and not to 'face each other senseless at every opportunity.<p>

After being told that their security clearance had come through they were given a brief tour, before being escorted to what would be the first of many combat lessons.

The room was half full of new recruits, and Hound's blue optics, the only ones in the room except for the instructor's, scanned the crowd hoping to find familiar faces, when he didn't he slumped against Trailbreaker in despair, until a stern look from their instructor pulled him up straight. Of the others only Jazz caught the look and shot them a smile, but Hound couldn't work out the meaning behind it.

The first training session was on hand to hand combat. It was more of a refresher course for Hound, and he felt like he needed it, but slowly the foot-work and co-ordination came back to him, and by the end of it he was ranking high in the class.

The last part was a test, each mech had to hold their own against another and if he managed to do so for a count of fifty another was sent in. Hound was the first to manage three, a score equalled by Jazz a few breems later. Only the twins surpassed them, but then the instructor made the mistake of sending Sideswipe in as Sunstreaker's second. He seemed to think that the red mech would be a good match for his golden twin, but they refused to fight each other, and between them they held off seven. Their antics earned them a congratulatory smile from Jazz, but their instructor wasn't amused, and set the twins the task of scrubbing the floor while the others took a hard earned rest.

Hound leant against Trailbreaker again as they watched the twins. He thought he was being discrete but it wasn't long before Jazz looked at them seriously, and they knew the time had come. Hound was half expecting Jazz to give them a long speech about duty and such things, as his previous commander would have done, but it seemed that he still had a lot to learn about the black and white.

"What happens between you will not affect what we do as a unit," Jazz said quietly, but firmly. They both nodded without hesitation and the smaller mech smiled. "Be happy," he instructed them, and without another word he resumed watching the twins.

* * *

><p>The other task that occupied a lot of Trailbreaker's time was refitting his precious shuttle. He enjoyed the work; the steady, methodical progress of it gave him a sense of achievement, as well as time to think, but it also pained him to see his pride and joy, the object that to him represented his independence and freedom, slowly become a machine of war.<p>

The rest of his unit helped him to varying degrees; Wheeljack worked tirelessly on the electronics, Jazz was happy to take on the rather unenviable task of crawling around the service conduits and fixing any problems that Trailbreaker couldn't reach (Trailbreaker suspected that it was a form of escapism, but he was grateful for the assistance). The twins turned up as and when it suited them to do so, and, of course, Hound accompanied often accompanied him.

However, the only time they were all together was the cycle when the last of the work was done. A solemn sense of occasion seemed to settle over them as Wheeljack closed the last panel to be upgraded and dusted his hands off theatrically. "Job done," the said cheerfully, but Trailbreaker couldn't share his enthusiasm.

Hound touched his hand, and gave him a sympathetic look. His lover obviously understood how he was feeling well enough not to offer his congratulations.

"It should have a name," Sideswipe suggested. "I mean the Wreckers have Xantium," he added suddenly looking a little foolish, but it was no secret that the red twin, like many of the new recruits, idolised the long standing and highly successful unit.

"_She_ has a name," Trailbreaker informed him coldly. He felt slightly insulted that none of them, although he didn't include Jazz who had known for vorns, had bothered to ask him. He was aware that he was being overly-sensitive, but he couldn't quite bring himself to forgive them. "I named her Haven when I first got her."

"The ship's a femme," Sideswipe muttered, looking rather puzzled.

"She always felt like one to me," Trailbreaker explained, "and until recently mine was the only opinion that mattered."

"Humouring 'Breaker seems like the better option than being shoved out of an airlock," Jazz advised quietly, and he shot his old friend a winning smile, "but Sides may have inadvertently hit on something. Haven was the perfect name for her in her previous existence, but she's changed a lot recently."

Trailbreaker nodded reluctantly as he ran his hand over helm terminal that until a few cycles ago had been as familiar to him as his own face, but the additional of controls for the weapons systems and other upgrades seemed completely alien. "You're right," he muttered, and it pained him to say so. "But I'm not comfortable with changing her name totally. She's still my home, I don't expect the rest of you to understand, but it feels wrong. When I was a youngling I dreamed of seeing the world, and she showed me wonders that I had never imagined. She never let me down, even when the skies became dangerous she kept me safe, and she will remain my Haven. We've just made her stronger," he smiled suddenly as the answer came to him. "Gentlemechs, her name is now Steelhaven. Welcome aboard."

"May Primus keep her, and us, safe," Hound said formally and Trailbreaker grinned at him.

"I think we need to make one thing clear," Jazz said seriously, "I'm happy to be your commander, but Steelhaven still belongs to Trailbreaker, so his word is second only to absolute necessity while we're aboard, and I faithfully promise to keep her out of danger when ever possible."

"Thank you," Trailbreaker said gratefully, he was genuinely touched by Jazz's words and the thoughtfulness behind them; he didn't have to say anything after all.

Their gathering broke up a few breems later, and it wasn't until then that Trailbreaker realised that Sunstreaker hadn't said a word. This in itself was nothing unusual, the golden twin was easily the quietest of the unit, and Sideswipe usually talked enough for both of them, but the black mech couldn't help thinking that the occasion should have brought some comment, and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, whether Jazz's trust in the golden twin was well founded.

His worries were laid to rest forever two cycles later when he returned to the shuttle. Over the new side door, which had been put in under a wing to protect them as they boarded, in small but perfect glyphs was the name _Steelhaven_. He knew that it must have been Sunstreaker that had done it; Sideswipe wouldn't have bothered, Hound had been with him nearly the whole time, Wheeljack was ridiculously busy, and Jazz was incapable of writing anything neatly. He smiled to himself and forgave the golden twin.

He ran his hand over the hull. "We'll be back in the skies soon enough," he promised the shuttle as he stepped aboard. He settled himself into the helm, which seemed so different that it almost felt like it was for the first time. "You're not the only thing that's changed. We won't be running away anymore, we were running out of places to hide anyway, from now on we'll be heading into danger, seeking it out, and I ask only one thing of you; fly true."

* * *

><p>The cycles flashed by, and although their training was usually hard and occasionally brutal, Trailbreaker often found himself thinking of them as the happiest of his life. Most of each cycle was spent in the training rooms either learning the skills of war or taking part in practice simulations, but it was the later part of the cycle that Trailbreaker enjoyed more because then he was free to spend time with Hound.<p>

The green mech enchanted him, there was no better word for it. He filled his processor as well as his spark, made him laugh and gave him something to fight for, which was something he'd never had before.

There were still occasional moments when Hound seemed melancholy, and Trailbreaker couldn't blame him, but they were becoming fewer and easier to bring him out of.

Hound was also proving himself in the training rooms. Always picking things up quickly and scoring highly; usually right behind Jazz who had gone from the pacifist that Trailbreaker had known for so long to a formidable warrior, who was quickly breaking records and pushing his instructors to their limits. The twins of course were in a league of their own, but Trailbreaker considered some of their advantages unfair, and didn't rank them in the same way as he did the others.

However, their most recent training simulation had ended in disaster, and Trailbreaker couldn't help thinking that it was all his fault. Despite his promise to Jazz he had been distracted, he'd been watching Hound stalk a drone instead of paying attention to his scanners, and before he knew what was happening he had been surrounded and incapacitated. Everything had gone wrong from there. Jazz and the twins had been the last mechs standing, and fought well, but the odds had been insurmountable.

Feeling ashamed of himself Trailbreaker had played on an injury to his shoulder, and stomped off to the med-bay instead of staying for the debriefing. He hadn't seen any of his unit since then.

Eventually though he had to return to his quarters, and he wasn't surprised to find Hound waiting for him. The green mech had his own room just down the corridor, but it had never been used.

"Thank Primus," Hound whispered as soon as the door opened. "I've been so worried. Why didn't you comm me?"

"I needed some time to think," Trailbreaker answered. "I'm not cut out for this. I've done my best to become a warrior, to prove myself to you, but it's not who I am. I'm leaving and I want you to come with me."

Hound's knees almost buckled, over the last few cycles a moment like this had become one of his greatest fears. He was determined to fight and avenge his fallen city, but Trailbreaker had become very important to him too, and he had no idea how to choose between them.

"You're staying aren't you?" Trailbreaker said quickly. He knew that Hound was dedicated to the cause, how unlikely it was that he would give up too, and he saw no point in prolonging the pain of their separation. "I wish you luck," was all he could think of to say before he turned to leave.

"'Breaker wait!" Hound said desperately, "please listen to me." he launched himself at the larger mech and clung to his arm. "Please, just listen."

Trailbreaker tried to steel himself, but he'd never been able to withstand it when Hound started pleading with him. He couldn't help wondering if the green mech knew how irresistible he was.

"There are things you need to know before you make your decision," Hound said, talking at almost twice his usual speed. "After you left the simulation room Jazz cornered our instructor demanding to know what he'd done wrong, he was furious. The instructor didn't want to tell us, but I think Jazz scared him, and the twins were following his lead, so he told us that the lesson for this cycle was that we wouldn't always win, sometimes we'll come up against impossible odds and when we do we'll have to accept the consequences."

Trailbreaker could only stare at him.

"Do you understand now?" Hound asked him. "You seemed to take the whole thing to spark and you shouldn't. No one blames you and you shouldn't blame yourself."

"Why isn't Jazz telling me all this?" Trailbreaker asked.

"Because whatever the reason behind it threatening an officer is still threatening an officer. He and the twins are spending the night in the brig."

"Jazz is in the brig," Trailbreaker repeated. "We'll we've seen him beat all the escape simulations, I doubt they'll hold him for long."

"Jazz knew he'd done wrong and went willingly," Hound explained, "the twins, not so much."

Trailbreaker chuckled despite himself. He almost pitied the mechs who had put them in the cells.

"That's better," Hound said cheerfully, but his expression quickly became grave again. "I'm not done with you yet though."

Trailbreaker froze at the sudden seriousness in his lover's voice.

"I'm hoping that now you understand you won't be leaving, and I wish that I could have said that I'd go with you, but my place is here, as I hope you now know yours is, so I'll ask you just once, will you stay with me?"

"Yes," Trailbreaker answered immediately. "Leaving here without you was my worst nightmare."

"Good," Hound said brightly, "but next time you have doubts talk to me. You've gotten me through some of the worst cycles of my life, and I'd like to think that you can depend on me too, but if you scare me like that again you will end up recharging alone, got it?" he finished with a playful scowl.

"You're right, of course," Trailbreaker said softly as he ran tender fingers down his lover's cheek. "I guess I've still got a lot to learn. It's been a long time since I've been in the same port long enough for a proper relationship."

"I bet you had a lover in every port," Hound said cheerfully.

Trailbreaker laughed. "How did you manage to get me mixed up with Jazz?"

"I know who I'm with, and why." Hound said with a warm smile. "And I'm happy with who I have." He took hold of Trailbreaker's jaw and pulled him down into a deep kiss. "Do you need me to spell it out for you, or would you rather have a demonstration?" he asked as he pushed against Trailbreaker's body.

Trailbreaker backed up slowly, letting Hound guide him to the wall and take what he wanted. In their time together Trailbreaker had learnt that Hound rarely took a forceful role in their love-making, but when he did it was worth the wait.


	7. Chapter 7

A.N: A little over four years ago I found ff.n for the first time, and almost the first story I read was Prowl/Jazz, I wish I could remember which story it was and credit it, but I just can't. In my mind they have been the perfect couple ever since, and because of that I think I will always be nervous about this chapter, but it's as good as I can make it, and my only hope is that it's good enough. Enjoy. FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 7 <strong>

Wheeljack hadn't expected company, hardly anyone had visited his quarters since he had been given them thirty cycles earlier, and it was late, but never the less when he looked up from his work he found Jazz standing by the door, watching him.

"You should have said something," he chided his friend and commander lightly. "I hope you haven't been there long."

"Less than a breem," Jazz said quietly. "You look busy, I should just go."

Wheeljack had had a moment to really look at the younger mech by then, he'd noticed the slight slump in his usually graceful posture and the frustration and worry in his optics. "What's wrong Jazz?" he asked warmly.

"Nothing," Jazz was instantly on the defensive, and starting to back out.

"Don't give me that," Wheeljack scolded him. "Everything you are is in your optics, I can tell something's bothering you."

Jazz studied the floor intently, reminding Wheeljack of a youngling he had known long before the war, and making him wonder just how old Jazz was. "There was a bit of trouble after you left the training ground," Jazz admitted hesitantly.

"How much is a bit?" the engineer asked.

"Sideswipe took offence to something the instructor said, I stepped between them to put a stop to it, and Sunstreaker blind-sided me. It took me, Hound and 'Breaker to subdue the twins. Hound's medical getting a shoulder-strut realigned, and the twins are in the Brig," Jazz finished with forced humour.

Wheeljack shook his head sympathetically. "Everything will work out," he assured his friend. "Sunny and Sides think they know everything already, and being cooped up like this isn't easy on any of us, but it won't be long now before we start going out on missions and it will all fall into place then."

"I wish I shared your confidence," Jazz murmured.

"If you had anymore confidence you'd probably explode," Wheeljack said lightly. "You're _Jazz_," he added emphasising the name to make it sound impressive. "Half the recruits here are already telling your stories and the rest stop and stare when you walk into a room. No one's had a training record to match yours since Ultra Magnus was here and look where he..." he broke off suddenly as he noticed a shudder run through his friend's frame.

He tilted his head to one side in bewilderment and stepped around the work-bench as the shudder became a shake, "Hey," he said softly. "It's alright." Things were clearly far from alright, but he needed to buy himself some time and he figured that a little reassurance couldn't do any harm. Slowly, cautiously and giving Jazz plenty of time to step away Wheeljack wrapped the younger mech in a comforting embrace. "Talk to me."

"I... I... don...'t think...I'm cut out... for this," Jazz stammered as he fought for mastery of his systems, which were rapidly spiralling out of his control. "I'm no commander, I was a fool to think I could be, and you'll be fools to follow me," he continued in a rush before his intakes stalled completely, and he buried his face in Wheeljack's shoulder.

"Hush now," Wheeljack muttered soothingly. "Listen to me, don't try to do anything, let your automatic systems do the work."

For a long moment nothing was said, and Wheeljack found himself rubbing slow, gentle circles across his friend's back, and hoping that he was helping. It seemed that he was as Jazz slowly regained control of his systems.

"I'm sorry," Jazz whispered as soon as he was able. "I can't believe I did that," he added looking truly ashamed of himself.

"Our training is designed to test all of us to our limits Jazz," Wheeljack reminded him. "We all have them, and we all react differently to them. I happen to know that Trailbreaker almost took his shuttle and left a few cycles ago, Hound talked him out of it and now he's more determined than ever. That's what makes us a team, one of us may stumble from time to time, but there will always be someone there to catch him."

"Thanks," Jazz said gratefully, although he still looked mortified.

Wheeljack started to pull away, but he stopped when his hand brushed a panel in Jazz's side. "What's this?" he asked as he lifted his friend's arm to get a better look. "You should be in medical with that," he added as his actions revealed a deep dent in Jazz's armour.

"Sunny got in a lucky punch before I could stop him," Jazz explained. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make things worse for him."

"I'll take care of it then," Wheeljack offered. "Just go, lie..." he paused for an instant as he realised that the only space big enough to accommodate Jazz was his recharge pad that was tucked away in the corner, "...down. I'll just get my tools."

If Jazz noticed his hesitation he gave no sign of it and picked his way across the room. "You've got more space than any of the rest of us," the black and white observed. "And I know that you arrived here with next to nothing, and yet anyone would think that you've been here for vorns."

"You should have seen my lab back in Kaon," Wheeljack retorted with a chuckle. "I had a service drone to clean for me back then, but I still couldn't tell you what colour the floor was," he handed over a small container of energon. "Here, while I work you drink this; your energy levels are a little low."

Jazz inspected the offering, "Where in the world did you get high-grade?" he gaped. He knew for a fact that there was hardly any of the strong concoction in the city.

"I helped the Wreckers out, they gave it to me," Wheeljack answered as he detached the buckled plate.

"The Wreckers? Really?" Jazz asked in obvious surprise. Everyone knew about the Wreckers, they were the best Special Ops unit Nova Cronum had ever commissioned, their stories were told by nearly every instructor in the city, and they never failed to inspire. Jazz himself had only caught glimpses of the legendary mechs, and couldn't help feeling a little envious of Wheeljack for actually meeting them.

Wheeljack averted his optics modestly. "Roadbuster was from Kaon, like me. He was in the Security Services back then, and my creator used to commission mods and upgrades for him, when he heard I was here he looked me up," he explained quickly.

"So what did you do for them?" Jazz asked, eager to hear the whole story.

"The biggest problem any Special Ops team has when they're on missions is communications, all comms go through the nearest hub, and if that is under Deception control any message could get them all killed. Impactor came up with the idea of a virus to slow the hub down, just by fractions of an astro-second, long enough for a message to be received and deleted, genius really, but he needed a tech-mech to work out a few of the kinks, and fortunately I was able to help. Roadbuster gave me the high-grade as a thank you."

"Then I can't drink it, you earned it," Jazz protested. "And honestly the stuff doesn't do me any favours."

"High-grade is better when it's shared. Just have a little," Wheeljack said encouragingly.

Reluctantly Jazz poured himself a tiny amount into a drinking vessel and sipped the strong energon, almost immediately he felt it tingle through his circuits, revitalising him, and making him feel more alert, but he knew enough to know that the sensation was a lie.

Wheeljack continued talking as he worked, explaining the virus and a few other devices he was working on, within a breem Jazz was having difficulty following his words, but the sound of his friends voice was so soothing. Soon the pain he had been in faded away, and seemed to take the last of his energy reserves with it.

A few breems later Wheeljack sat back and cast a critical optic over his work, the dent was hardly noticeable, the damage beneath it had been patched up, and Jazz's internal repair systems would easily take are of the rest. "Probably long before you come out of recharge," he told his slumbering friend. "Rest well Jazz."

The problem Wheeljack faced was that Jazz now occupied the only berth and he was in need of some recharge himself. _Well, it's not like we haven't shared a berth before, _he shrugged, and taking care not to disturb Jazz he laid down and began his own recharge cycle.

* * *

><p>At first Wheeljack wasn't quite sure what had brought him back online, almost immediately he realised that he wasn't alone and remembered why, then he heard a peculiar sound; it was Jazz.<p>

The noise was spark-wrenching, a distressed keening that seemed to drill through Wheeljack where their frames touched. "Oh Jazz," he murmured sympathetically as the reason for the noise occurred to him. "How long have you been like this?"

Memory-echoes weren't that uncommon among Cybertronians, a traumatic event, or an extremely pleasant moment, could easily play on a 'bots processor, and rerun itself while they recharged, judging by Jazz's reaction whatever he was reliving wasn't nice.

Cautiously Wheeljack gathered the black and white into his arms, Jazz stilled instantly and all signs of tension disappeared. Wheeljack smiled to himself and settled back down.

It felt like less than a breem later when he was forced back online again by a comm from Trailbreaker. "_What is it?"_ he asked grumpily.

"_Sorry to bother you 'Jack,"_ Trailbreaker apologised. "_I know it's late, but I only just get out of medical with Hound, did you hear about what happened?"_

"_The trouble with the twins? Yes,"_ Wheeljack answered.

"_I just figured that I should check in with Jazz before I turned in, but he's not in his quarters or the rec room, have you seen him?"_

"_I still can,"_ Wheeljack said, although in truth he couldn't see much more than a shadowy outline, but he could feel Jazz in his arms well enough. "_He's been here for a while, he was a bit stressed at first, but he's calmed down completely now."_

"_That's good,"_ Trailbreaker sounded truly relieved. "_I've been worried about him since it all kicked off, and I should have called him earlier, but I didn't realise that my comm-link had been damaged."_

"_I'm fine 'Breaker," _Jazz's casual tone transmitted through the link. "_And I would have answered sooner but 'Jack gave me some high-grade and it's left me feeling a little fuzzy. I'll see you in the morning. Take care of Hound."_

"_Yes sir," _Trailbreaker responded happily. _"__Oh, and 'Jack,"_ he added,_ "d__on't let Jazz have too much of the good stuff unless you want him to start bouncing off the walls,"_ and with his warning issued Trailbreaker cut the link.

Wheeljack chuckled and looked in Jazz's direction. "I thought you were still in recharge."

"The comm brought me back online, but by the time I realised what was going on you were already talking to him," Jazz said lazily. "High-grade isn't my friend, and I couldn't figure out where I was, or who I was with for that matter."

"I didn't think you'd mind," Wheeljack said awkwardly. "We've shared a berth before, and I only have the one."

Jazz smiled, but Wheeljack could only tell because of the tone of his voice. "I don't mind," he assured the engineer. "I just don't remember being this _comfortable_ last time."

"Only because I came back online first," Wheeljack informed him, and he watched with amusement as Jazz's optics darkened in embarrassment. "This seems to be your natural recharge position," he didn't mention that this time it had been him who had done the snuggling up for the simple reason that Jazz was relaxed and happy, and he saw no reason to bring up the memory-echoes just yet.

"You're not pulling away though," Jazz pointed out.

"No, I'm not," it seemed that it was Wheeljack's turn to feel abashed. He hated to admit it but he'd felt an attraction towards Jazz from the moment they'd met. The mechs charm, humour and natural grace were qualities he admired, but Wheeljack wasn't sure if that moment was a good time to say anything.

He chose not to, instead he moved one finger slightly along an amour seam on Jazz's hip, the barest of caresses, a move that could easily be dismissed as an accident if Jazz reacted badly, but still gave him a sense of satisfaction.

"I'm your commanding officer, and your friend," Jazz said gently. "And, more importantly, I've never managed to keep a relationship going for more than a few cycles. You deserve better than me, and more than I can offer you."

"Maybe that's not what I'm asking for," Wheeljack whispered, emboldened by the fact that Jazz hadn't moved at all despite his words. "I know that if nothing else you can't afford the distraction of a lover, we could call this a one-night thing, or stress relief if you want," Jazz still wasn't pulling back, and although part of Wheeljack's processor was calling him all kinds of idiot, another much louder part was telling him that it was now or never. He retracted his face-mask, and moved closer so that they were optic to optic. "Or you can tell me to stop."

His kiss was gentle, undemanding, the perfect first kiss in his opinion, although he nearly ruined it by freezing up in shock when Jazz returned it.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this, right?" Jazz asked when they broke apart.

"I thought that was half the fun," Wheeljack responded, the wondrous feelings that came with having Jazz pressed so close to him were making him reckless, and he couldn't bring himself to care about what they should, or shouldn't, be doing.

"Will you regret this in the morning?" Jazz asked seriously, but he spoilt his best commanders tone by softly running his hand down Wheeljack's side.

"I might regret not doing this sooner," Wheeljack replied with a grin.

The change in Jazz's optics was instantaneous, one moment they looked unsure, if a little curious, the next moment they were nothing short of predatory. "This is just for tonight," Jazz stated clearly.

Wheeljack could only nod and Jazz didn't give him time to do, or say, anything else. When he looked back on the experience later Wheeljack couldn't be sure how they went from laying side by side to him being on his back with Jazz straddling him so quickly, they simply did and he didn't question it at the time because Jazz's hands suddenly seemed to be everywhere.

As many of his sensory circuits went off at once, it occurred to Wheeljack that he really should be doing something other than laying back and letting Jazz do all the work, and with a supreme effort he grazed his fingers down Jazz's thighs, which tightened around him pleasurably, but when he tried to reach higher Jazz caught him by the wrists, and stopped him.

"Later," Jazz said simply as he resumed his self-appointed task of mapping out each and every one of Wheeljack's sensors.

Wheeljack thought about protesting that things were maybe moving a little too fast, but when Jazz's clever fingers found a particularly sensitive bundle of wires at the base of his neck he found that he couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Oh Primus."

He could feel his spark racing, his plating heating up as his coolant lines battled to keep up with the rush of energon that his body needed to fuel his sensory net, and of coarse Jazz's marvellous hands, but there was nothing else. He had to concentrate just to remember his own name, but that seemed unimportant, and when Jazz's lip-components caught his in a searing kiss that Wheeljack was sure should have reduced him to a pile of ash he knew only one designation, "Jazz!"

The sound of hearing another mech crying out his name with such lust was music to Jazz's audios, it had been too long since he had last felt so alive, so in control, and the thrill of feeling his lover writhe in pleasure was intoxicating.

Wheeljack bucked against the black and white as Jazz's energy-field ripped through him like a laser-knife and tripped most of the more responsive areas that his hands had already discovered. He wanted to say that he couldn't last much longer, and if Jazz sensed his closeness it only served to make him push harder.

Then all of a sudden, and just as Wheeljack's systems started to yield to the seemingly inevitable overload, everything stopped except for the vents that were working frantically to cool his systems. Stunned by the lack of sensation Wheeljack was still unable to think of anything else to do, then Jazz's lip-components pressed down on his in a kiss that seemed to go all the way to his peds, and the energy-field blazed through him again sending all of his systems wild, and releasing an overload the like of which Wheeljack had never experienced before.

"That was amazing," Wheeljack heard Jazz murmur through the pleasant haze. The black and white had shifted again, was now laying by his side and curled around him.

"But you didn't..." Wheeljack started to say, but Jazz cut him off.

"Sometimes it isn't about that, sometimes I just like to watch," the gentle kiss that followed his words drove all thoughts from Wheeljack's processor, except for the one that told him to keep going.

His persistence paid off and soon Jazz was wriggling pleasantly against him, and whimpering in delight.

The mood between them had changed completely, Jazz was no longer forcing ahead, he was letting Wheeljack set the pace, and the touches they exchanged were tender and gentle.

Jazz's hand brushed against the panel that protected Wheeljack's interface cable and asked an unspoken question, Wheeljack didn't need any further encouragement and as soon as the link was made Jazz's desire and elation crashed through his systems, but whatever lay beyond those emotions was out of Wheeljack's reach. _Firewalls,_ he realised, _good ones too._

He didn't mind, every bot had the right to protect themselves, and the thrill of what he could feel from Jazz was more than enough anyway.

This time their energy-fields rose as one, meshing together and merging perfectly. With Jazz's systems already running hot it wasn't long before the black and white was hovering on the brink of overload, but Wheeljack couldn't seem to push him further, every touch or emotion was countered, and pushed back through their uplink driving Wheeljack closer, but keeping Jazz balanced.

For more than a breem Jazz held his own, the engineer was impressed and frustrated by this, but then in a flash of inspiration he remembered that Jazz had been a musician, and possessed a pair of fine-tuned audios, "You're beautiful," he whispered his voice heavy with desire, and he felt Jazz's resolve weaken, surely he couldn't take much more, "Let go for me," Wheeljack growled and Jazz was only too happy to oblige.

Jazz's excess energy blazed through the link, if his first overload had been a high then this one was nothing short of stellar, and left Wheeljack feeling as if he'd been reduced to a cinder and then remade.

"Is it always like that for you?" Wheeljack asked once he could speak without stuttering.

Beside him Jazz was still trembling in the aftermath. "Just sometimes," the black and white whispered. "It's been a while since I had it that good though."

Wheeljack placed one kiss on Jazz's lip-components and then a final one between Jazz's optics before he closed his face-mask and wrapped his arms round his lover.

"Thank you," he heard the black and white say in the softest of whispers.

Wheeljack chuckled, "You've just given me two of the best overloads of my life, but you're thanking me, that makes no sense."

"I mean it," Jazz protested. "I've been struggling for cycles, questioning myself, worrying, barely making it through, just surviving, but it's as if you've brought me back to life, and I know I can deal again."

"Well I don't get much of this sort of interest often, if you need me again you know where to find me."

"'Jack..." Jazz said softly but Wheeljack didn't let him get any further.

"I'm not asking for anything," he said seriously, "you owe me nothing, and I won't make demands. All I'm offering you is the chance to relax when you need it, a sanctuary from the rest of the world and the toll that it takes on you."

"Sanctuary," Jazz repeated in a tone that told Wheeljack that he was almost back in recharge. "I like the sound of that."


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8 **

When Wheeljack voluntarily came out of recharge Jazz was gone. He wasn't surprised, but he had hoped that he would at least stick around for long enough to say, 'Good morning.'

As he crossed his quarters he noticed a full container of energon and a data-pad leant against it, with a fond smile he picked up the energon and sipped it as he cast an optic over Jazz's scrawling glyphs, 'You inspired me,' the message read, 'I had to get an early start, and in my best commander's voice I add; get your aft to the training ground!'

Wheeljack barked a laugh, tossed the container into a recycling bin and headed out.

Only Trailbreaker and Hound were waiting for him when he reached his destination, but they greeted him warmly. "I don't know what you said to Jazz last night," Trailbreaker grinned. "But you certainly made an impression, have you seen him this morning?"

"No," Wheeljack admitted, and he found himself truly thankful for the facemask that hid the smile that accompanied the mention of the night before. "I just got a message to be here."

"For good reason," Jazz said smoothly as he joined them, flanked by the twins.

"I thought they got three cycles in the brig," Hound muttered.

"It took a little creative talking," Jazz said as he flashed them a dazzling smile. "But I managed to convince Magnus to let them out early. Sunny, Sides, I believe you have something to say."

The twins exchanged a brief glance. "We're sorry," they said as in unison. Sunstreaker's apology somehow sounded more like a threat, and Sideswipe shuffled like a naughty sparkling, but the words were said, and Jazz was happy with that.

"And that's the last I want to hear about the whole mess," Jazz added sternly. "We have work to do, and if it goes well this will be our last training cycle. Magnus has a mission for us and I'm not about to let him down, any questions?"

Wheeljack shook his head as his processor raced. The change in Jazz was incredible, unbelievable even, and more than just in his attitude, a thick band of blue crystal covered his optics completely, and while no one said anything about it they all looked a little curious.

* * *

><p>The rest of the cycle passed in a blur for Wheeljack, and at the end of it Ultra Magnus took Jazz aside, said few words, nodded and left again. When Jazz rejoined the rest of his team he couldn't keep the smile off his faceplates. "We're in," he said simply. "Let's go."<p>

Preparing the shuttle didn't take long, but they all knew that the flight would, once they were airborne Jazz took the controls, and ordered the rest of them to get some recharge while they had the chance.

"What about you?" Wheeljack asked once they were alone.

"I'll be fine for a while, 'Breaker'll never trust me to land this thing so I'll get some rest then, but right now I feel like I could go for cycles, and I have you to thank for that, but we can get into that when the job's done."

"And the visor?" Wheeljack persisted.

"Is a tool," Jazz replied. "My audios are close to perfect but I wanted more. The visor takes the data from my scanners and feeds it into my optical sensors, gives me more information without dividing my attention, and stops anyone else from seeing _everything I am_ as you put it."

"I didn't mean it like that," Wheeljack said defensively.

"I know, but it got me thinking and that was just the beginning. Get some recharge 'Jack, the next cycle or so is going to be interesting."

"Interesting," Wheeljack repeated. "Let's hope that's all it is."

* * *

><p>The small sun of Cybertron was rising over the city of Vos as Trailbreaker's shuttle touched down near it's outskirts.<p>

"Welcome to Vos," Jazz said as he stepped lightly away from the shuttle. "A few vorns ago it was a pleasant city, but now we have to be careful."

"You're talking like you've been here before," Hound said curiously.

"It's been a while," Jazz admitted, "but there isn't a city on this planet that I haven't at least visited a few times, that's one of the reasons why Magnus agreed to take me on as a unit commander. 'Jack take the twins and find somewhere to upload that virus of yours, comm me when it's safe, but not before then unless there's no other option. 'Breaker, Hound, with me."

The two small groups parted ways, and Wheeljack allowed the warriors to lead him down a side street. "We don't need much," he told them. "Just a hard-link to the hub that won't be noticed."

"Like a closed shop," Sideswipe suggested as he pointed out an upgrade store that was yet to open for business.

"Good enough, can you get us in without setting off the alarms?"

"I may not have Jazz's knack for hubs, but I can manage a couple of locks," the red twin said distainfully. "Let's just get this done, we don't want to be here for any longer than we have to, right Sunny?"

Sunstreaker didn't speak, but his optics said it all. He was looking around as if the buildings themselves couldn't be trusted.

Less than a breem later the three mechs stepped cautiously into the shop. "Would you look at all this stuff," Sideswipe said as he glanced over the shelves. "Hey Wheeljack, do you think you could build me one of these?" he asked holding up a jet-pack.

The engineer tore his attention away from the console at the rear of the store and nodded briefly. "Now let me concentrate. Go keep guard or something."

* * *

><p>With Hound scouting ahead Trailbreaker and Jazz made their way deeper into the city. "Things seem to be going well between the two of you." Jazz observed when he grew tired of the silence.<p>

"He's amazing," Trailbreaker smiled. "But you knew what I'd think of him straight away, didn't you?"

"You give me more credit than I deserve 'Breaker," Jazz said fondly. "The romantic in you sees more than your optics."

"You can deny it if you like, but I've seen you introduce 'bots and attend their bonding celebrations," Trailbreaker disagreed. He didn't want to name names, his primary example was a couple who had perished when Uraya had been destroyed. Their loss had devastated Jazz, and deep in a hostile city was not somewhere to bring up painful memories.

Jazz didn't answer straight away, and without being able to see his friend's optics because of the new visor Trailbreaker had no idea what Jazz was thinking, which he was almost certain was the main reason behind it's acquisition. Jazz hadn't mentioned the night before, but Trailbreaker hadn't expected him to. They were close, but there were some things that they just didn't talk about, which coupled with Wheeljack's slight awkwardness told Trailbreaker all he needed to know.

"I miss them too," Jazz said eventually. "What we do in the next cycle is in their memory."

"I'm sure they'd be proud of you," Trailbreaker said supportively. He didn't say their names for the simple reason that Jazz hadn't either.

"I doubt they'd even recognise me," Jazz murmured.

The last statement troubled Trailbreaker but he let it slide. _Typical Jazz,_ he thought. _We could be discovered and killed at any moment, and he chooses now to talk about them, right when he knows I can't question him. _

Eventually Hound rejoined them. "I found a service tunnel," he reported, "looks like it hasn't been used in vorns. It's a little small though."

"Then it'll have to be a one mech show," Jazz announced, he was easily the smallest of the three. "'Breaker, you have your orders." He jumped in without waiting for a reply. He couldn't give Trailbreaker a chance to disobey him.

Cautiously he edged along the tunnel. He knew that he couldn't be seen, but if he wasn't careful he could be heard and he had no idea whether or not he was walking into a trap. He also noticed that the air was getting warmer. _Surely I can't be that close to the Pit,_ he thought vehemently. _What is this place?_

He knew that he should have asked more questions before the mission started, but he'd been too eager, too keen to prove himself after so many cycles living among Autobots who he thought of as heroes. Mechs like Ultra Magnus and the Wreckers who had devoted vorns to fighting Decepticons while he had been enjoying himself.

_I should have joined the cause sooner,_ he scolded himself, _should have turned and fought rather than run away._

The temperature was still increasing, and through a conveniently placed grill Jazz could see why. It seemed that a large part of the building was a foundry. _Looks like __I'm closer to the Pit than I thought I was._ Furnaces burned hot enough to liquefy metal as far as his optics could see. Jazz shuddered despite the heat. _What in the name of Primus is going on here?_

His optics were impaired by the shear amount of smoke that belched from the fires, and by the heat-haze, but his newly improved scanners were a different matter. He concentrated on them, pushed them to the limit of their tolerances, and what he found made the fuel in his tanks churn.

"Primus save us," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Trailbreaker shifted nervously. He'd spent vorns waiting for signals from Jazz, being ready to pull him out of whatever tight spot he'd managed to get himself into, although usually his task was sneaking the black and white mech away from overprotective creators or young 'bots who were convinced that Jazz was the new love of their lives. In one way he was well prepared for what was happening, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that it was going to be easy.<p>

He glanced at Hound. His lover didn't seem to be as worried as he was, but then Hound wasn't aware of Jazz's knack for finding trouble. Hound only thought he knew Jazz, they were commander and subordinate, two mechs who shared a goal and trusted each other, but there was no history between them.

Hound had spent his life in Perihex, joined the security service as soon as he was old enough like his creator before him, and signed up for the Autobots when the war had become inevitable. He had wanted to protect what he had known and never even thought of leaving until the city had fallen, and Trailbreaker knew all too well how much that loss still haunted him.

Trailbreaker smiled as Hound met his optics, and the green mech touched his hand in return. They had both made promises to each other, and Jazz, that they wouldn't let their relationship interfere with their responsibilities, but this was the first time that those promises had been tested, and with no one else around it seemed strange not to touch each other.

Hound's optics darkened slightly, a sure sign of his desire, and Trailbreaker's resolve weakened. He shifted a little closer to his partner, and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I wish I could take you somewhere a little more romantic," Trailbreaker whispered, although he knew there was no one around to hear him.

"I'm sure you will eventually," Hound smiled. "But so far you've kept me safe and I'm grateful for that. I've never had someone who was willing to protect me before."

The admission surprised Trailbreaker. Hound usually only talked about his past late at night when he was relaxed and almost ready to recharge. "I don't think you've ever needed someone to do that for you before."

"Sign of the times I guess," Hound agreed. "But I like it."

Trailbreaker leant in a little, almost close enough to steal a quick kiss, but he jumped back when a comm from Wheeljack came through.

"Virus installed. We have comms," the engineer announced.

"I'm going to have a word with him about his timing when we get back," the big mech promised, Hound flashed him a smile and turned quickly as his audios picked up a noise from the service tunnel.

"Run," Jazz hissed as he emerged from the pipe. "Don't wait for me, just run!"

Trailbreaker started to move, pulling Hound along with him, but it wasn't until he was sure that Hound wouldn't stop again that he dropped down into his alt-mode. The sound of Jazz's engine coming up close behind them spurred them both on, and they raced for the city limits.

"What did you do Jazz?" Trailbreaker asked.

"The right thing for once, although it may cause us some problems. Magnus sent us here to investigate some strange energy readings, I found a huge foundry under Shockwave's fortress. He's building drones; hundreds of them. Wheeljack gave me some explosives just in case and I decided that to throw them into what ever plans Shockwave may have made."

Hound chuckled, and Trailbreaker wished he was in his robot-mode so that he could give the green mech a withering look. "Don't encourage him," he said sternly. "Jazz, I know you've got a lot to prove, first mission and all, but you can't afford to be reckless."

"If you'd seen it down there you'd have done the same thing," Jazz retorted.

Trailbreaker couldn't know whether he would have or not, but he was all to aware that what Jazz had seen had shaken him to the core, and that worried him greatly.

"We've got incoming," Hound reported.

"They just popped onto my scanners too," Jazz added. "By Primus they're fast."

"You're the only one of us with a chance of out running them," Trailbreaker said grimly. "Hound and I aren't built for speed."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Jazz assured him.

A moment later a barrage of laser fire raked their path. Hound screamed and veered wildly as one of the shots pierced his flank. Jazz dropped to the rear, transformed and unspaced his weapons in an instant. "Breaker!" he bellowed.

"No," Trailbreaker snapped back, "you can't ask me to do that Jazz."

"I ain't asking you," Jazz growled and he charged into the mass of oncoming drones.

Hound staggered to his feet, clutching his wounded side, but clearly ready for a fight.

Trailbreaker had an instant to make his choice, and his spark froze as he realised that he didn't really have one. The drones were swarming around Jazz, but for all the black and white's valour he was only just managing to slow them down, Hound was injured and the odds were impossible.

With a snarl of frustration Trailbreaker slammed a forcefield between himself, Hound, and everyone else.

"What are you doing?" Hound demanded.

"Following orders," Trailbreaker said wearily. "The two of us can't help Jazz, we need to regroup, make a plan and get him back. Now move!"

Hound's transformation was nowhere near as elegant as usual, and his face contorted in pain before it disappeared, but he managed to get back into his alt-mode, and they sped off to find the rest of their unit.


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N:** Firstly a big thank you to Bluebird Soaring, who reminded me about the explosives that Jazz set up, I'd completely forgotten, hopefully their inclusion doesn't seem too last minute. This is why I need reviews, I count another twenty-odd chapters to this story at least (now do you believe me when I say it's huge?) and while I promise to do nothing less than my best I know I'll miss things.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Jazz does suffer, but I don't think the descriptions are too graphic. Take care, thanks for reading. FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 9<strong>

A low rumble shook the disused building that Wheeljack and the twins had found to hide in to await the others. Wheeljack didn't know what it was, but a small part of his processor told him that Jazz was probably involved. One thing he had learned early on in their training was that Jazz had no problem with blowing things up.

He was distracted by Sideswipe laughing, the red twin had been in high spirits since they had left the up-grade store. He looked over to see the warrior pull something out of his sub-space and add it to a pile at his feet. It seemed that Sideswipe had gotten bored while Wheeljack had been working, and helped himself to anything he could carry.

"Primus," Wheeljack muttered. He wasn't particularly angry, if they did get caught he knew that theft charges would be the least of their problems, but Wheeljack had been raised to be a moral mech, and Sideswipe's lack of such sub-routines was something he could barely comprehend.

He moved a little closer, and cast an optic over Sideswipe's haul. He spotted a pair of simple boosters, and wondered what it would be like to fly.

"You want to trade?" Sideswipe asked him. "What have you got?"

"About half a container of high-grade back in Nova Cronum," Wheeljack offered.

"Done," Sideswipe accepted cheerfully, "although I should charge you more as I did you a favour; you don't have to build me a jet-pack anymore." He held up the article and looked impossibly pleased with himself.

Wheeljack resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, and did his best to sound stern rather than despairing. "I didn't _have_ to build you a jet-pack Sideswipe, and you should be considering yourself lucky that I'm not telling Jazz about your urge to steal anything that isn't welded down."

"I'm giving Jazz first refusal," Sideswipe shot back, "he isn't as virtuous as you seem to think he is."

The noise of the door opening caused the mechs to swing around and forget about Sideswipe's indiscretions. They all tensed but relaxed quickly when they saw Trailbreaker almost carry Hound inside.

For a moment they all, except Sunstreaker, fussed over Hound's injuries, but then something else occurred to Wheeljack. "Where's Jazz?" he demanded to know.

"In motion," Trailbreaker responded, "I don't know where he's going yet, but I'm tracking him."

"You left him," Wheeljack accused the black mech.

"He ordered me to," Trailbreaker admitted. "Before we left Nova Cronum he told me made me promised that if anything went wrong I would get everyone out. I didn't want the responsibility, but he told me that my force-fields were the best chance we had. I didn't think it would come to this."

Wheeljack's hands twitched with the desire to punch the larger mech, but he managed to resist the urge, and turned to start patching up Hound's wound. "How are you tracking him?" the engineer asked without looking up from his task. He was clearly too furious to meet Trailbreaker's optics.

"Can you pick up the low level static on our comm line?" the black mech asked, and he waited for Wheeljack and the others to nod before he continued. "That's Jazz, it's a code we've worked out over the vorns. I used to ferry Jazz around a lot, and after he got into a scrape with the governor of Uraya for getting a little too intimate with his first-sparked, we came up with a code so that he could call me in without it registering on the hub. It started out as a game, but when it was useful so we developed it. The last time he used it was to call me in to get you all out of Perihex."

"I always wondered how he did that," Sideswipe put in, but he went back to leaning unobtrusively against a wall of their hideout when Wheeljack glared at him.

"So how do we get him out?" Hound asked.

* * *

><p>With a hastily plan made, and Hound's side taken care of, Trailbreaker led the others back to the tunnel that Hound had discovered. The whole area was thick with smoke, and Trailbreaker explained that Jazz had set up an explosion just before they were caught, and that it was mostly thanks to the chaos it had caused that he and Hound had been able to get away.<p>

Wheeljack was expecting Sunstreaker to at least to protest about the state of the pipe, but the golden twin didn't even murmur about it as he shuffled his way in, Sideswipe shot a grin at the others and followed his brother, leaving Wheeljack to bring up the rear, and Trailbreaker and Hound to find another way in.

With the twins ahead of him and looking ready to tear apart anything that got in their way Wheeljack felt comparatively safe, _considering that I'm bolts-deep in enemy territory and I have no idea if this is going to work,_ he mused as they slowly crawled through the tunnels. _At least with most of the drones still fighting fires on the other side of the complex we stand a better chance._

Trailbreaker had given him a quick introduction as to how Jazz's code worked, and although he couldn't understand it he could use it to triangulate Jazz's position, and they were cautiously closing the gap. Another signal also gave him Trailbreaker's position, and relief washed over him as he realised that they too had gained entry.

Eventually they reached a grill that allowed them to see into the cell that held Jazz, and let their overtaxed systems take a hard-earned rest while the black and green mechs caught up with them. Wheeljack had to force himself to look at what they were about to jump in to.

Jazz hung from a wall at the back of the cell, four drones watched him unemotionally as his faceplates contorted in pain that was caused by thick wires that were invading his frame. Wheeljack found himself envying the unsparked mechanisms; they couldn't feel the horror, or the revulsion, that threatened to overwhelm his systems.

Holding up his hand Wheeljack matched the countdown that Trailbreaker set, and just before he ran out of fingers Hound and Trailbreaker burst through the cell door. As one the drones turned and started firing at the intruders, and that was when Sunstreaker kicked in the grill and pounced.

Trailbreaker barged into his position between them and the drones and threw up a forcefield to protect Wheeljack and Jazz from stray shots. Wheeljack knew that he had to work fast, any delay would just give their enemies more time to find them, but he couldn't help flinching when Jazz screamed as he severed the wires. "I've got you," he said as confidently as he could as he hauled Jazz into his arms. "I promise you that you're safe."

Jazz only moaned, but he huddled as close to Wheeljack as he could as the engineer ran for the exit, leaving the others to cover him.

* * *

><p>Jazz was struggling to stay online by the time they made it back to the shuttle. "Get us in the air 'Breaker!" Wheeljack ordered. "Sides, get my tools. Sunny, Jazz needs energon, low-grade if we have any; it'll be easier for his systems to cope with," he looked down at the battered mech in his arms. "Come on Jazz, you're gonna be okay," he pleaded. He'd never been so worried about anyone before.<p>

"I..." Jazz murmured, his voice was thick with pained static.

"Don't talk," Wheeljack told him. "Save your strength."

"Let me..." Jazz insisted as Wheeljack laid him out on a berth. "They didn't get anything out of me. They tried, but they couldn't get through my firewalls."

"Thank Primus," Wheeljack murmured. Pure relief washed over him, such a thing had been his worst fear, but even if Jazz hadn't been hacked he was still hurt, and there was still work to be done. "Rest Jazz," he instructed.

"Will you stay with me?" Jazz asked. He sounded so scared that he would be left alone that Wheeljack thought his spark would shatter.

"Always," he promised, and it shocked him to realise that he'd never meant a word more.

Jazz smiled weakly and recharge claimed him.

With a sudden clatter the twins burst into the room. "How is he?" Sideswipe asked as he handed over Wheeljack's tools.

"He'll live," Wheeljack assured him. "But I need to work."

For once the twins seemed to take the hint and left without protesting.

Slowly and methodically Wheeljack removed the invasive wires. He knew that Jazz would receive a thorough examination upon his return to Nova Cronum, regulations demanded such things of any Autobot that had been taken by Decepticon forces, no matter how briefly, but Wheeljack felt that the fewer 'bots that saw exactly what had been done to Jazz the better.

The sound of the door opening again made Wheeljack jump, he'd been so absorbed by his task that he had almost forgotten that he was even on a shuttle.

"How is he?" Trailbreaker asked softly.

"Better than I hoped," Wheeljack replied. "He spoke briefly before he went into recharge, he told me that he wasn't hacked. He's depleted and he looks like slag but that's the worst of it."

"That's good," Trailbreaker nodded. For a few awkward moments he was silent, then he spoke again. "I feel like I've neglected him, except for when we were training I've hardly seen him in cycles, I even left him to you when I knew he was upset. I've been a lousy friend."

"He understood that you needed to be with Hound," Wheeljack said, hoping that he could help the big, black mech. "He wants you to be happy."

Trailbreaker smiled. "I know he does. That's Jazz all the way to his core. I've seen him do it before, he'd meet someone, they'd become friends and then one cycle he'd introduce them to someone else. Most of them ended up bonded, and those that aren't are headed that way."

"You think he set you up?" Wheeljack asked.

The black mech chuckled. "In the best possible way," he said cheerfully. "Love is a mystery to most 'bots, but Jazz sees the patterns of it as easily as we walk and talk."

"Maybe he'll do the same for me one cycle," Wheeljack muttered as he tried look busy, most of his work was done, but for some reason he didn't want to look at Trailbreaker.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Trailbreaker agreed. He hesitated, he didn't want to say his next words, but he had no choice. "But it won't be him."

"And just what do you mean by that?" Wheeljack demanded to know.

"I know that it's not my place to say anything, and that you and I don't really know each other that well, but sooner or later you're going to have to start trusting me."

"I do trust you," Wheeljack protested.

"Then listen to me," Trailbreaker advised. "I've seen the way you look at him, I recognise it because I used to watch him in exactly the same way, and I know that loving Jazz is like trying to catch smoke. He'll slip through your fingers every time and there's a good chance you'll get burned."

"You were..." Wheeljack began hesitantly, but he had no idea how to finish the sentence.

"I'd just bought my shuttle, during a cargo run I stopped off at Crystal City, I didn't know anyone, but I was tired of being by myself so I went to a bar. I'd been there maybe five breems when Jazz walked in, he lit up the room and performed for us, then he asked me to dance. I don't know why he picked me; he could have had his choice of any 'bot in the place. Afterwards he came back here."

"And you..."

"Had a night to remember," Trailbreaker finished for him. "We got to talking afterwards, he told me that his next show was in Praxus, which was on my way so I offered him a lift. I'll admit that I was infatuated, and hoping for more, but I soon realised what he was really like and we became friends instead, and Jazz is the very best of friends."

"That's all he is to me too," Wheeljack told the black mech, although he wasn't completely sure he was being honest. In the short time he had know Jazz the black and white had become incredibly important to him, but everything he knew about Jazz told him that he wasn't the sort of mech to settle down, and he wasn't sure if he dared hope that that would change.

* * *

><p>A swirl of pain and revulsion burned through Jazz's processor as he fought his way back into the realm of consciousness, memories flashed giving the sensations of being touched and restrained, panic brewed in his tanks.<p>

He lashed out. No one was going to hurt him without paying for their brutality in full.

"No! Don't!" for an instant he thought that he was listening to his own screams, but he quickly realised that something was off - the hands that were pinning him down were too gentle.

"Don't move," it was Wheeljack giving the orders and Jazz knew without question that Wheeljack would never hurt him. "Think, focus, where are you Jazz?"

"Lost," Jazz admitted before he could stop himself.

The pressure on his arms eased off by a fraction. "You're safe Jazz," Wheeljack said softly, and as if his processor had been waiting for those words to bring it back to reality, the scene around him cleared.

He was in Nova Cronum med-bay, Wheeljack was leaning on his shoulders and the rest of his unit were standing around him looking deeply concerned, but he didn't understand why until he followed their optics to the end of his own arm.

A terrified looking medic was trying not to tremble as Jazz held him by the throat in a vice like grip, one twitch and Jazz would be tearing out major fuel-lines and the young medic would be dead before he hit the floor.

"Easy now," Wheeljack said calmingly.

He relaxed slowly, forcing his systems to return to normal parameters. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but by degrees he released the unfortunate mech, and sank back on to his berth.

The medic fled, and Jazz couldn't blame him.

For the better part of a breem no one moved, the silence was almost unbearable in Jazz's opinion, but no one seemed to know what to say. Jazz's processor raced, only he could fix the problem and the only option he could come up with was to plead ignorance.

"What happened?" he asked, with only half-faked confusion.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Trailbreaker asked back.

"Drones," Jazz answered vaguely, "too many to fight, and Hound was hurt," his optics found the green mech and he was relieved to see that he looked fine.

Trailbreaker nodded grimly. "They took you, we had to regroup and get Hound fixed up before we stood a chance of getting you back. You told Wheeljack that you weren't hacked on the way back here, but you were a mess. It's taken most of a cycle to get you back online."

Jazz barely held back the shudder that the memory of the holding cell caused. "It's all pretty hazy," he made himself say. "Maybe it would be better if it stayed that way."

"You know as well as anyone that the past has to be reckoned with," Trailbreaker said sternly.

"In time," Jazz added, and with an effort he heaved himself off the berth.

Wheeljack planted himself between Jazz and the exit. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I appear to be done here," Jazz said flippantly. "I'm going to my quarters to write this up, Magnus will be expecting my report, I'd appreciate it if you could stop by later and fill in the gaps for me."

Jazz retreated quickly to his quarters, filled out his report and flopped down onto his chair. He hated the fact that he had lied to his friends, but he was also certain that he would have broken down if he had seen pity in their optics, it was the one emotion that he couldn't stand, but he also knew that he would have to tell one of them.

A little later the door pinged, and Jazz let Wheeljack in. "How are you feeling?" the engineer asked quickly.

"Slagged," Jazz admitted, with a self-deprecating, half-forced chuckle. "But I know I did the right thing and that helps. The report's on the desk, I just need you to fill in the bits I wasn't there for."

"Was that when you blew up Shockwave's toys? Or when you let yourself get captured?..." Wheeljack's tone had started of light enough, but as he scanned the report and realised that their were incontinences his voice became much harsher, "...Or when you lied to us?"

"All three," Jazz answered without meeting Wheeljack's optics. "There are 'bots in this city who are trained as councillors, and I intend to make use of them, but no one in our unit has been in Decepticon hands, thank Primus, and I don't see how they can help me."

"We're your friends Jazz," Wheeljack reminded him.

"I know that," Jazz agreed, "and the best thing you can do is just let me carry on. I'm not saying that it didn't happen, that it didn't hurt or that I wasn't scared, but for now I need to concentrate in making sure that nothing like that ever happens to the others, or, Primus forbid, you."

"What are you saying Jazz?"

"That first thing next cycle you are going to make sure that everyone else's firewalls are top-notch. It's something that I should have thought of sooner. Even the medics who did my assessment when I first arrived were impressed with mine, and while I know that yours all passed their tests I'm not convinced. I'm under no illusion that however unpleasant hanging from that wall was with those wires digging through my plating, it would have been an awful lot worse if I hadn't been able to protect my processor."

As Jazz spoke Wheeljack realised that he was having to fight to keep his intakes working normally. His commander was implying that if he had been the one who had been taken his firewalls wouldn't have saved him, the fear this thought produced was overwhelming, and Wheeljack needed to act quickly to divert his thought processes. Fortunately he found a distraction almost immediately. "Is that why you interfaced with me?" he asked. If he was lucky he might just get the answer to more personal questions too.

Jazz looked surprised that the question had occurred to him. "No," he answered honestly. "That was just fun."

"Good," Wheeljack said in relief. "Did you know that Trailbreaker warned me off you?" He had to work hard to sound amused rather than horribly embarrassed, but he was fairly sure he pulled it off.

Jazz laughed genuinely. "No, I didn't. Poor old 'Breaker. He's spent so long clearing up my messes, and I rarely thank him. He's never understood why I live the way I do either, casual interfacing isn't really his style, he only let me have him because he thought I was special, but he's never realised that he is too."

"I'm not sure I understand," Wheeljack admitted. "I guess I have more in common with Trailbreaker's way of thinking than yours." He couldn't help wondering how Jazz would react if he knew that by sharing his berth he had doubled his number of partners, but he didn't think that the look on Jazz's face would be worth his own mortification.

"I don't just jump into the berth of any 'bot that looks at me twice, you know?" Jazz assured him. "Each one of them was special in their own way, had something that drew me to them, a beauty, a grace, an intelligence, or when I was lucky a mix of those and more," he finished with a meaningful look at Wheeljack.

"I'm nothing special," Wheeljack murmured.

"You just let me be the judge of that," Jazz said warmly.

* * *

><p>The late following cycle Jazz sauntered into Wheeljack's lab, and casually leant on one of the benches. "How did it go?" he asked the engineer.<p>

"Interesting," Wheeljack responded. "I've upgraded the twin's firewalls, and my own, but Hound and Trailbreaker have inadvertently given themselves better protection than any of the rest of us will have any time soon."

"Oh?" Jazz asked curiously.

"I'm not sure I should tell you though. Patient confidentiality and all that," Wheeljack teased. He knew full-well that not telling Jazz the gossip was akin to torture.

"You're not a medic," Jazz pointed out.

"No, but I was acting as one," the engineer reminded him. "Did you go to your councillor?" Jazz's answer would determine whether Wheeljack told him, or if he would have to wait.

"I spent most of the cycle with him. I never knew talking could be so draining, but it's helping. I'm no where near as jumpy as I was last cycle."

"That's good," Wheeljack nodded approvingly. He leant in conspiratorially, "Hound and 'Breaker's firewalls are keyed in to each other, personally I think it's a little too soon, but it seems things are going _really_ well between them."

"That's..." Jazz trailed off, almost speechless. What his friends had done spoke of true commitment and a relationship that was only a step or two away from bonding. He smiled suddenly. "That's the best news I've heard in cycles."


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**

Wheeljack looked up nervously as Jazz returned from his briefing. "What's the news?" he asked hesitantly. In the vorn or so that they had been in Nova Cronum Wheeljack had learnt to gauge the seriousness of their assignments from the look on Jazz's face-plates when he came back from seeing Ultra Magnus; he couldn't help wondering if they were finally being sent into the Pit itself.

"Some of the rumours are true. Antihex has fallen, but not to Megatron. It seems that his Seekers got greedy and took the city for themselves. The good news is that they don't have a very strong hold, Starscream's brigade is disorganised and that should make our job easier."

"What will we be doing?"

"A bit of everything really, shaking up the 'cons, getting neutrals and Autobots out. We're not the only team in on this, but we'll be working alone unless absolutely necessary. I'll warn you now that I intend to use every advantage we have, and if you are not comfortable with that now is the time to say."

"You've led us well this far," Wheeljack assured him. "And we trust you."

"Besides, this isn't just about us," Sideswipe added. "This is about a conquered city and the 'bots who live there."

Sunstreaker's faceplates twisted into a harsh frown as he nodded in agreement.

Sure that he had his friends' support Jazz continued. "We'll need disguises and aliases. Wheeljack let's get started on the modifications, we'll work the rest out as we go."

* * *

><p>Jazz smiled to himself as he stepped out into the main bay again, his friends were waiting for him but he barely recognised any of them. All of their distinctive features were gone, red optics replaced the blue ones they had all been so proud of since joining the Autobots, insignias had been changed, colour schemes were completely different, except for Sunstreaker who had refused point-blank to do anything other than exchange black for yellow and yellow for black.<p>

Much to Jazz's amusement Hound and Trailbreaker had basically traded colours, most of Sideswipe's paint was a hideous orange colour that Jazz suspected might glow in the dark, and Sunstreaker refused to look at, even Wheeljack's face-mask was gone, which struck Jazz as the strangest thing. The two friends had shared so much, even a berth on occasion, but this was the first time Jazz had ever seen his face; Wheeljack was strictly a lights-off mech.

Wheeljack noticed that Jazz was watching him and smiled warmly, then schooled his features into a more professional expression so that everyone would remember that there was a time and a place for chatter, and this was not it.

"So, did you all think of aliases for yourselves?" Jazz asked as he perched on the edge of a work-bench.

His unit traded awkward glances, and unusually Trailbreaker was the first to speak. "I thought I'd use Wrecker," he said with an uncomfortable shuffle.

"Good start," Jazz agreed. "Anyone else?"

"Hunter," Hound said, sounding only slightly more confident than his lover.

"Well done," their commander said encouragingly, and he absently picked up a small piece of metal to toy with while he waited for the others.

"Swipe's good for me," Sideswipe volunteered. "It's about time the second half of my name got some use."

Jazz nodded again. "Let's try getting into character a little, shall we?" he suggested. "'Jack, you're up."

"Call me Hammer," Wheeljack said coolly. "Anything I can't fix I beat into shape."

"Much better," Jazz grinned.

"What about you?" Wheeljack asked.

For an instant Jazz watched the off-cut he was playing with dance to and fro as the subtle movements of his fingers propelled it along. When he looked up again the set of his face was somehow more sinister and smug. "I'm Switchback, my friends call me Switch," he announced.

Wheeljack grinned. "Did you practice that?" he asked good-humouredly.

Jazz shrugged. "And that leaves Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker frowned, his gaze particularly menacing thanks to his new red optics. "I am Rage," he said in a tone that emphasised his name perfectly. "And I don't have any friends." he added with a quick, disdainful glance at Jazz.

"You'll have to amend that to one friend," Jazz told him. "You and I are going in together."

"Why me?" Sunstreaker protested.

"'Cause I need someone to cause a few distractions while I work."

"So take Sideswipe."

"I want punch-ups and demoralisation, not tricks the 'Cons can snigger over later. I need someone who can put the fear of Primus into the Seekers, and that seems much more your deal."

Somehow Sunstreaker managed to look even more arrogant than usual as he smiled.

"Any questions? Comments?" Jazz asked.

Most of his unit shook their heads, but Wheeljack shuffled awkwardly, seemingly gathering his courage. "There is something you should know," he said uneasily, "I probably should have said something sooner, but... well I'm telling you now. I knew Starscream, we worked in the same lab in Kaon. It's been a long time, but I think it would be for the best if I avoided him as much as possible."

"Very well," Jazz nodded. "Sideswipe, if Starscream is around then I want you between him and 'Jack, play it anyway you like; lovers, master and servant, whatever works for you, but keep them apart."

"I think a bodyguard is a little extreme Jazz," Wheeljack protested.

"That's not your decision," Jazz said firmly, and Wheeljack subsided, he knew that there was no point arguing with Jazz in his current mood. "Okay Sunny, we've got a transport waiting for us, we'll see the rest of you in two cycles. Watch out for the beacon 'Breaker," he ordered.

"Be careful," Wheeljack said as the currently black and blue mech made to move past him.

"If we play this right the 'Cons won't even be looking at me," Jazz said with a smile. "It'll be fine, see you soon." And with that he led Sunstreaker out.

* * *

><p><em>I've done a lot of stupid things in my life,<em> Jazz thought as he and Sunstreaker left the shuttle and casually wandered through the dock, _but this one deserves a prize._ He wasn't nervous, although a sub-routine that he couldn't quite delete told him that he should be, but he knew without doubt that he was walking into trouble.

"Welcome to Antihex," he said cheerfully to Sunstreaker, who was currently glaring at anyone that dared to look at him. "Nice place, shame about the Seekers."

"We'll soon put them in their place," Sunstreaker said with menacing confidence.

"Just remember that Starscream isn't as stupid as he sounds," Jazz said lightly. "And we'll have no back up for two cycles."

Sunstreaker nodded grudgingly. "Just let me know when I can start breaking things," he smirked.

"About a breem and a half," Jazz grinned. "Security here is a joke. Our new records are now part of the hub, and the little virus Wheeljack designed for the Wreckers is working nicely. We have everything we need, and the Seekers don't even know there's a problem."

"Yet," Sunstreaker corrected him. "But the problem they're about to discover is nothing to do with the one you've given them."

"Have fun Rage. You've just discovered a whole knew city of mechs to frag off," Jazz watched discreetly as Sunstreaker broke away from him, and wandered into the crowd.

From the intelligence Jazz had been given he knew that the few blocks around them were the only place that the Decepticons had any real power, Antihex had been pronounced conquered, but the Seekers were overconfident and sloppy, resistance cells had sprung up in all corners of the city, and Megatron was of the opinion that his rogue warriors should be taught a lesson rather than helped.

"You can't do that!" someone protested nearby.

Jazz checked his chronometer and tried not to show his amusement. _Congratulations Sunny, two point three breems in a new city and you've already found someone to annoy,_ a sickening crunch reached his audios and his grin slipped onto his face, _and punch,_ he added, _that's gotta be some kinda record. He'll be thrilled. _

The sounds of what was rapidly escalating into a brawl reached his audios and Jazz swaggered towards it.

"Enough!" screeched a new voice that could only belong to one mech. "I, Starscream, order you to stop now."

"But the slagger got in my way," Sunstreaker snarled.

"I'm a sentry," the unfortunate and dented mech protested. "I'm supposed to…"

"That's probably not how he sees it," Jazz interrupted as he stepped into the centre of the crowd.

"Who the frag are you?" Starscream demanded.

"Me?" Jazz asked innocently. "I'm Switchback, you can call me Switch, and this is Rage. We heard there was some action to be had here and Rage was bored so we came down. Things have been kinda slow lately, ya know? Megatron is so worried that you might take his place that he's not really done much."

"Megatron's worried?" Starscream probed, sounding both intrigued and amused.

"'Course he is, everyone knows that the Seekers are the true power behind the Decepticons, and he knows that if you succeed here you could probably challenge him for his place as leader."

"You seem to know a lot for someone I've never heard of," the air commander commented, although he sounded rather smug.

_He's buying it,_ Jazz smirked inwardly. "Rage and I have been kinda freelance for a while, but you should be able to dig our records out from the hub. The short story is that Rage likes to fight Autobots and I help him get what he wants."

"And what do you get out of this little arrangement?" another Seeker asked.

"He gets to keep his armour in the same number of pieces that it started out in," Sunstreaker growled.

Starscream nodded in understanding approval, he seemed to think that he had the two newcomers worked out and looked pleased that they had arrived.

As he turned to leave Jazz caught the Seekers arm. "One thing you should know," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "Is that Rage gets bored easily, and that's the last thing you want."

"There are plenty of Autobots hiding in the outskirts of the city," Starscream replied, "I trust they will keep him entertained."

"I'll make sure they do," Jazz agreed. "See you around Starscream," And with that the two Autobots left the docks without interference.

"I thought you said Starscream wasn't stupid," Sunstreaker muttered as they wandered seemingly aimlessly through the streets.

"He's not," Jazz warned him. "But he has plenty of other faults we can exploit, arrogance and cowardice being among them."

* * *

><p>A.N: Most of the names are self explanatory, but I wanted to tell you why I chose Jazz's. Just as I started this chapter, and after I'd decided what the others were going to use, I was at a night-club when Celldweller's Switchback came on, I hadn't heard it before, and honestly it's a little too industrial for me, but something in it called out to my muse, so now Jazz, this whole story and myself have something in common; we are all named for songs. Hope you liked this chapter, catch you soon. FB.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Okay, cheat-sheet so no one gets confused, our mechs are using alias' in this chapter. Hound is Hunter, Jazz is Switchback, Wrecker is Trailbreaker, and Sunstreaker is Rage.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 11 <strong>

"You need to contact Wrecker," Sunstreaker hissed as they stalked down a deserted street. It had been nearly twenty cycles since Jazz's unit had arrived in Antihex, and the twin's bond had proved invaluable in that time as it meant they could divide their time, but still keep tabs on each other easily. "It's important."

With a brief nod Jazz activated the correct comms frequency, in an instant received an encrypted data-stream, dropped into his alt-mode and headed towards the centre of the city immediately.

"What is it?" Sunstreaker asked as he followed Jazz's lead.

"We have fresh orders," Jazz answered quietly. "The Prime's shuttle was ambushed not far from here. Sentinel escaped, but one of his bodyguards and a youngling were taken by Seekers."

"The bodyguard might be of use to Megatron," the warrior snarled. "But the youngling?"

"Is a ward of the Prime, Megatron will use him too if we don't get them out of here."

"What's the plan?"

"We find them, Swipe leads the others to us, they take them back to Wreckers shuttle, simple."

"It always sounds simple," Sunstreaker said dryly. "It's a good thing I like a challenge."

Jazz barked a laugh and led them on, he accessed the hub as they drove and soon located the two unfortunate mechs. "The Seekers are taking them to a transporter," he informed his friend, "We have to intercept them fast, or we'll have to take the shuttle, and that won't be easy. Where's Sideswipe?"

"Two mega-miles out and closing fast," Sunstreaker replied, "this might actually work."

"Have a little faith Rage, and give me a signal when Swipe gets close." Jazz transformed back into his robotic-mode, and forced himself to relax.

Sunstreaker nodded, set his faceplates into a harsh sneer as they rounded the last corner and stepped out in front of three Seekers and two similarly built Autobots; one black and white, the other two-tone grey, and both with red chevrons above their optics.

"Stand aside!" one of the Decepticons ordered.

"Easy now Screamer," Jazz said smoothly, "We just wanted to see your prize. Well, Rage did. You know that seeing captured Autobots amuses him almost as much as dead ones."

With a cruel chuckle Sunstreaker stepped forward, and with a wicked glint in his optics he made a show of looking the two Autobots over.

The older of the two captives glared at the warrior. Jazz smirked, he was actually impressed, not many mechs squared up to Sunstreaker, even the few that he liked thought twice about it, but this Autobot did not seem afraid.

"Looks like you're losing your touch Rage," another Seeker sneered, "or maybe you're just going about things the wrong way. Megatron said that he wanted the prisoners alive, but he didn't say anything about them being intact."

"Don't you hurt him," the younger mech said in a rush. "He's done nothing to you, we've done nothing to you…"

"Silence!" the third Seeker thundered. "Speak again and your friend will wish that he had never been sparked, clear?"

The young mech clamped his lip-components shut, and gave his friend an apologetic look.

"I think that's enough," Jazz said lazily. "These mechs have a shuttle to catch after all."

"I am in charge of the prisoners," Starscream protested predictably. "I will say when we proceed, and I see no need to hurry. There is always time for a little pleasure," he added with a lecherous look to the older of the two mechs.

"If you think so," Jazz grinned, annoying Starscream was always fun. "But I like the look of that one myself."

"I am the officer here, I will have first choice," the red Seeker snapped, before he turned on his heel and found himself optic to optic with Sunstreaker.

"You know the drill Starscream," the warrior snarled. "Switch helps me get what I want, and I help him get what he wants."

"There are three of us, and two of you Rage," the second Seeker, who just happened to be the Decepticon who Sunstreaker had punched a few breems after arriving in Antihex, said in a warning tone.

Sunstreaker flashed the Seeker a brief, unsettling smile. "I thought you learned your lesson already," he hissed.

Jazz let the rest of the threats and back-chat wash over him, he already knew how it would end, but while he was waiting for the action he had a moment to take a good look at the two prisoners.

They could easily have shared a maker, or have been creator and youngling if the elder of the two had bonded early, but Trailbreaker's comm had mentioned 'a ward of the Prime,' and that only happened when there was no one to care for a sparkling.

_So, youngling and mentor,_ Jazz surmised_, must be bordering on hero-worship for him to copy the other one like that, but then it's a good model, sleek lines, good structure, smart too if the way he's watching for any indication of weakness is anything to go by._

Jazz gave the black and white mech a winning smile just as Sunstreaker threw the first punch. The four Seekers pounced as one and Jazz placed himself between the brawl and the Autobots in one quick, graceful movement, "Ya don't want to get in Rage's way, my mech," he said smoothly as the older protested about being shoved backwards.

"Guarantee my friend's safety, and I'll fight with you," the black and white said in a whisper that was pitched only for Jazz's audios.

"Rage can take care of himself," Jazz answered lazily. Somehow he managed to sound casual despite the shiver that ran through his circuits at the sensation of the calm, determined voice so close to his audio. "Everything's covered."

True to Jazz's words the Seekers beat a hasty retreat less than a breem later, Jazz smiled, Sunstreaker brushed a non-existent smudge off his armour and the two Autobots exchanged glances.

"Whose side are you on?" the younger one asked.

"Not theirs," Sunstreaker answered almost civilly. "Move out."

"I'm on his," Jazz added. "And things tend to go better when mechs do as he says." He had to admit that he was enjoying himself, and he was fairly sure that it was more than just being in the company of Autobots again. There was something about the black and white mech, maybe it was his refusal to back down, or his protective nature, Jazz wasn't sure. _May__be it's just been too long,_ he mused as they followed Sunstreaker.

"We'll take them from here Switchback," Wheeljack announced sternly as he stepped into their path. Over the cycles they had fallen into their roles as bickering rivals vying for the attentions of Rage and Swipe, they'd had a lot of fun with it, and it amused and distracted the Seekers, but in that moment Jazz wondered if his friend had overdone it.

For a moment the two chevroned mechs looked alarmed and confused. The black and white planted himself firmly in front of the grey, but relaxed slightly as his guards and the three new arrivals moved together in a relatively friendly manner. It seemed to him that they all knew each other, and that the rough tone was more playful than threatening. His worries faded further when another of the three new mechs made a discrete hand-signal that indicated that he was an Autobot ally.

"Looks like this is where we part ways," Jazz stated, bringing the black and white's attention back to him.

"A moment, please," the chevroned mech asked. The mech that had given him the signal nodded and he pulled the smaller of his original escort aside. "I don't know what's going on here," he admitted, "But I know what Starscream and his mechs threatened us with, you saved us from that and asked nothing in return, that doesn't make you much of a Decepticon."

Jazz smirked. "I wouldn't say there was nothing I wanted," he said smoothly, and he gave the black and white an appreciative look. The mech tugged at his arm again, pulling him in to a brief, but wondrous kiss.

Jazz would have rather walked into the Pit than pulled away, the mech pressed against him was handsome, brave, passionate and something else that he couldn't define, but admired, but he knew that they couldn't waste time. The two former prisoners were still wanted mechs, targets while they were in the city, so, making it clear that his movements were reluctant, he stepped back and walked away.

He didn't go far; just around the corner of the nearest building he stopped and waited for Sunstreaker to join him. _Primus, but that was good,_ he thought as he tried to steady his intakes._ Get it together Jazz, think with your processor and focus. It'd never work out anyway._

"What's next?" Sunstreaker asked with a glint in his optics that told Jazz exactly how amusing he thought the whole situation was.

"We follow them to the shuttle just in case, and then we're done."

"Sure it's not just so you can get another look at the black and whites aft?" Sunstreaker teased.

Jazz shot him a smile that might have passed for innocent on most mechs, and moved off. _Looking won't hurt,_ he told himself, _and he'll be gone soon enough, then it's back to work._

Wheeljack had set a fast pace, with Sideswipe and Hound a short distance ahead to steer them clear of trouble, but the streets were almost deserted, and it only took a few breems to get to Trailbreaker's shuttle.

Once the two Autobots were aboard and airborne Jazz moved to Wheeljacks side. "No one followed," he reported. "They got out free and clear."

Wheeljack nodded without looking down from the departing shuttle. "Let's hope we get the same luck when our turn comes."

"Won't be long now 'Jack," Jazz assured him.

"Good, this place isn't doing any of us any favours,"

"Oh, I don't know, I think Sunnys' patience is improving. All these 'Cons make him seem quite the gentlemech."

"It's all relative Jazz," the scientist chuckled. "Anything you want to add to my report before you ghost off?"

"Actually, yeah," Jazz replied and there was an awkwardness in his tone that Wheeljack had never heard before. "You can pass on a message to Command for me, I don't ever want to know the names of those two mechs."

Wheeljacks optic ridges furrowed in confusion. He had seen the kiss that Jazz and the other mech had shared and it had looked perfect, passionate and wild, the kind of kiss that a mech experienced once in a lifetime, if he was lucky. He wasn't jealous, he had no claim on Jazz after all, it had been over a vorn since their one night together, but he couldn't understand Jazz's reaction. "Why?" he asked.

No answer came. Jazz was already gone.

Wheeljack stayed a moment longer, watching the pale trails that the shuttle had left behind, and wishing that he could follow them until the answer to his question came to him. _You remind him of the life he had,_ he thought to the mech that would soon be safe again and had no chance of hearing him, _the freedom and fun that he gave up to become our commander,_ _and for that reason he has to keep you away. It'd probably be for the best if you did meet again, but it's my job to protect him. Forgive him, and maybe one cycle he'll forgive himself._

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus scene<strong>; I deliberately left out the names of the two prisoners, but I think everyone guessed who they were, if you don't want to know don't read any further.

* * *

><p>Deep within the Autobot Headquarters in Iacon, and safely alone in his office, Prowl was pacing, it was something he'd done a lot of in the three cycles since his return home. His usual trick of burying himself with work hadn't done any good, all his processor seemed capable of was rerunning the events that had given him his freedom back.<p>

Six mechs had helped his and Bluestreak's escape from Antihex; the one who had identified himself as Wrecker had been the only one willing to confirm that he was an Autobot, but only once they were aboard his shuttle and no one else could hear him. One of the three mechs that had taken them to the shuttle had given him an Autobot signal, but refused to verify his allegiance, and out of that group only one of them had given them a name. Prowl had run several searches for Hunter, and the pilot, but none of them had found anything.

The same could be said for the final pair, Switchback and Rage simply did not exist, which left two possibilities; either they were Autobot agents, or duped Decepticons that had yet to reveal themselves, both options were made hard to believe by Rage's presence, but if Prowl was honest he had little interest in him beyond curiosity. It was Switchback that kept his attention.

Despite the Decepticon insignias Prowl had trusted him from the moment the mech had smiled at him, something had passed between them and Prowl had found it difficult to think about anyone else since, and then there was the kiss. Prowl had never felt anything like that before, or believed that such passion and need could be conveyed in such a way, or any other.

His logic circuits told him that the whole situation was impossible, that he couldn't have given into emotion so easily, that he shouldn't believe that Switchback could make him feel the way he did, but the problem with logic was that sometimes the world just didn't bend that way, and while Prowl could usually reason out anything he simply couldn't do that with Switchback.

His thoughts were interrupted by Ratchet's sudden presence, Prowl wasn't sure if the medic had knocked or not. He'd been too lost in his musings to pay attention, but there was no escaping that his friend was stood on the other side of his desk.

"You're still thinking about Antihex," the medic said quietly.

"Am I that obvious?" Prowl asked.

"I've known Bluestreak to be more discreet," Ratchet replied with barely suppressed amusement. "It's called a crush Prowl, most mechs get them at some point, although it's usually when they are much younger than you."

"Can you recommend a treatment?" Prowl asked hopefully.

"Other than a memory purge, which is risky to say the least, I'd say a few shots of high-grade and some company."

"You know I don't drink that stuff."

"You do tonight," Ratchet retorted in a tone that was best not argued with, and without hesitation or invitation he pulled up a chair and unpacked the powerful energon from a subspace compartment and made himself comfortable. "So what was he like?" he asked politely, but Prowl was all too aware of his friend's curiosity.

"My height, blue and black paint…"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Ratchet interrupted. "What was it about that mech that's tying your logic systems in knots?"

Prowl sipped his high-grade to buy himself some time, and hoped that he could keep the dreamy look that seemed to accompany every thought of Switchback off his faceplates. "He has a smile that I'm sure would charm the Unmaker himself, and for some reason I trust him. If I could explain that then I doubt I would be having that trouble that I am, but he seems to defy logic."

Ratchet chuckled. "It seems that you've met your equal and opposite."

"Who just happens to be a Decepticon," Prowl snapped miserably.

"Maybe not," the medic corrected. "I've been asking a few questions myself. I've got nothing official. Just quiet conversations with other medics around the planet. The one from Nova Cronum thinks that there were two Special Ops teams working in Antihex, he's sure the Wreckers are in there, and maybe another unit that left the city a cycle or so later. He couldn't give details, apparently they're a relatively new unit and they've spent most of their time off base."

Prowl looked dubious. "Are there many mechs in this base that you don't know at least the medical history of?" he asked.

"It's not the same here," Ratchet said dismissively. "Optimus runs tight units, which fight shoulder to shoulder and that's not how Special Ops teams work."

"I know, I know," Prowl nodded. "And thank you Ratchet, but I think you should stop looking. Whoever he is it doesn't seem like he wants to be found. If he is Special Ops he's had plenty of time to find out who I am."

"He's probably still in Antihex."

Prowl shrugged. "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I'm not getting my hopes up."

"Well, maybe you should take it as a shove in the right direction," Ratchet said as he rose to leave. "You need something in your life Prowl."

"I have you, and Bluestreak, Sentinel, a few other friends."

"And a vorn ago I would have said that that was enough," Ratchet said sadly. "But since you became the Prime's tactician things have changed, this war is taking it's toll."

"The same could be said for you," Prowl shot back. He wasn't annoyed with his friend, what he said was true.

"I don't avoid relationships, they avoid me," Ratchet explained curtly, before he walked out the door without a backwards glance.

Prowl looked at the high-grade that Ratchet had no doubt deliberately left behind, and sealed it up for another time. Getting over-charged wasn't his solution to problems, but it was regularly Ratchet's, and he was sure that the energon would come in handy at some point.

He sat back in his chair for a moment, his optics flickered around the office, and studied the things that made his world; the desk, the data-pads. It wasn't much, he'd always kept his work-space functional, and his personal possessions in his quarters, but he spent far more time in his office.

_Is it enough?_ he wondered. He'd never asked himself that question before.

* * *

><p>A.N. It's strange that I'm on part 11, but this was one of the first bits I wrote when I started this story. I guess Prowl didn't want to be left out completely, but he's not being very co-operative, I intended for him to turn up more often. He will appear again though. Take care. FB.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, cheat-sheet so no one gets confused, our mechs are using alias' in this chapter. Hound is Hunter, Jazz is Switchback, Wheeljack is Hammer and Sunstreaker is Rage.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 12<br>**

Within a few cycles of their arrival in Antihex Jazz and his unit had settled in to an old warehouse, which Jazz had discovered, and a productive routine, but they soon realised that their task wasn't going to be an easy one, or one that would be completed quickly. In fact they had been in the city for more than thirty cycles, and there was still no end in sight.

Jazz, Wheeljack and Hound spent most of their time finding the Autobots and Neutrals, and either showed them safe routes out of the city or arranged for Trailbreaker to pick them up. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe filled their cycles by running interference between them and the Seekers, the twins easily identified the weaker fliers, and soon had them playing their games by their rules, but one mech caused them more trouble than the rest of the Seekers put together.

Starscream quickly developed the habit of turning up at inconvenient times, a few times only Jazz's superior hearing or Hound's highly tuned scanners saved their unit's true intentions from discovery, but there wasn't much that they could do against him. Starscream was the leader of the Seekers and the ruler of the city, they couldn't just make him _disappear_, but all six of them knew that something had to be done.

Jazz wasn't all that surprised when Starscream turned up unannounced at their warehouse late one cycle, but he was shocked to see that the Seeker had brought a large quantity of high-grade with him, and seemed to have drunk some of it already. Thankfully Hound had warned them of his arrival early enough for them to set up what looked like a quiet evening of gambling, and Wheeljack had retreated right to the back of the hanger, where he hoped his presence would go unnoticed.

"Surprise inspection," Starscream said with the careful annunciation some someone who was slightly over-charged. He held up the high-grade and smiled. "If I'm satisfied that everything is in order I thought we might make a night of it."

"Of course Lord Starscream," Jazz said cheerfully. "You are more than welcome in our humble accommodation."

"Lord Starscream," the Seeker repeated, and for a moment Jazz wondered if he had overdone his crawling. "I do like the sound of that."

Jazz relaxed and led the Seeker further into the warehouse to where the twins and Hound were playing dice. "A ruler of a city deserves a title," he continued. "You've met Rage, but I don't think you've come across Swipe or Hunter, have you?"

"Not personally," Starscream agreed, "but I've heard about them in reports from some of my mechs," his optics focused sternly on Sideswipe, "I've been told that you've been causing a few problems in the ranks," his optics flickered it include Sunstreaker in the accusation, but they didn't linger.

"No more than they deserved," Sideswipe said lazily. "Rage and I just wanted a little respect, we have it now and there shouldn't be any more problems."

"Fair enough," Starscream nodded. He took a seat without being offered one, and unspaced a small pile of credits. They played for a few breems, Sunstreaker made a show of being a bad loser, while Jazz and Hound joined Starscream at laughing at him.

"This is all very well," Starscream said as he helped himself to more of his high-grade, he was willing to share it with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but not with Jazz or Hound, who he seemed to deem unworthy, which Jazz was very grateful for. "But dice isn't really a gentlemechs game." He unspaced a deck of cards and placed them on the table.

"My Lord," Jazz said quietly, "if I may be excused, I'm afraid that Rage doesn't allow me to gamble with cards."

"He has the Unmaker's own luck," Sunstreaker said petulantly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he cheats, but I can't prove it so I haven't beaten him for it yet."

"Well, I do like a challenge," Starscream grinned, his optics watched Jazz maliciously, "maybe I can catch him for you. I assume that you would agree to let me watch."

Jazz did his best to look afraid, but privately he was quite enjoying himself, and he was proud of Sunstreaker in particular for keeping up his act so well. It didn't take long for Jazz to win back the credits that Sunstreaker had lost and add more to his pile, but as Starscream couldn't call him a cheat he soon grew bored, and demanded a tour.

"You seem to have made yourselves at home here," the air commander observed as Jazz showed him around. "Who's that?" he asked as he spotted Wheeljack.

"Hammer," Jazz said quietly, "he came in with Swipe, they have a similar arrangement to Rage and I, but I don't know why Swipe puts up with him. He's an anti-social glitch, lazy too. I end up doing half his work."

"He must be good at something," Jazz heard Starscream mumble, but it wasn't until he was almost back to the twins and Hound that he realised his mistake; he had thought that Starscream was uninterested and had followed him, but the Seeker had gone over to Wheeljack to investigate.

"Swipe," Jazz hissed and to his relief Sideswipe took the signal, shoved back his chair and ran over to where Wheeljack was fending of Starscream's unwelcome advances.

"Get your hands off him!" Sideswipe roared. "He's mine! Do you think I want your grease stains all over him." He shoved Starscream and Wheeljack apart none too gently, both mechs landed on their afts, but while Starscream just sat there staring Wheeljack shuffled away looking terrified and shaking violently. Jazz found himself desperately wanting to rush to his friend and offer him comfort, but he knew that he would have to wait until Starscream was gone.

Sideswipe was in full flow by then; ranting about respect and the behaviour of guests. Starscream looked as if someone had just punched him between the optics, and hadn't moved since he had landed on the floor, but then Sunstreaker moved to join his brother and he scrambled to his feet.

"Get him out of my sight!" Sunstreaker ordered. Jazz and Hound grabbed one of Starscream's arms each and pulled him away.

"Be grateful this is all he ordered us to do," Hound snarled as Starscream started to struggle. "I've seen Swipe rip out mech's internals for less, and I'm sure that Rage could be worse."

Starscream stopped fighting them instantly, and they made it to the door without any further trouble. "We're still your allies Starscream," Jazz said in a low, angry tone, "but it might be for the best if you didn't come around here again for a while." Starscream nodded dumbly, transformed and took off into the night sky.

Back at the other end of the warehouse the twins were looking almost impossibly pleased with themselves. "I don't think that could have gone much better," Sideswipe chuckled, "not only did we get rid of Starscream, which, let's face it we've all been wanting to do for cycles, but we also got his high-grade!"

"Just go easy on it," Jazz said tiredly, "and save some for 'Jack if he wants it. He looked like he could use it to me, where is he anyway?"

Both of the twins looked around and shrugged in unison. That action in itself would have been comical, but Jazz was too worried to be amused. He moved past them, and let himself out of the small rear door, which was the only way Wheeljack could have gone without the others seeing him.

Wheeljack was leaning heavily on a wall of the courtyard, a small mass of half-processed energon cast an eerie glow and provided the only light other than their optics and the stars.

"He's gone," Jazz said softly, "and he won't be back any time soon."

"I know," Wheeljack said miserably.

Jazz gave Wheeljack's arm a tug and led him away from the wasted fuel to another wall well away from the warehouse. "Not one of us would let him hurt you," he assured his friend. "I know that we've all been acting like Decepticons for a while now, but we are all Autobots to our cores, and more importantly we care about you."

"I know that too," Wheeljack whispered. He was shaking again, and his legs didn't want to support him anymore. He sank down into a dejected huddle and hid his face in his hands. He wished desperately that he hadn't removed his face-mask as part of his disguise.

Jazz curled round him protectively, and held him tight. "Talk to me," the black and white said softly. "Tell me what happened?"

"He said that I was ugly, and that he knew from experience that ugly mechs were great at 'facing..." Wheeljack said in a barely audible whisper.

"You're not ugly," Jazz interrupted firmly, and he managed to pries Wheeljack's hands away from his face to that he could stoke his cheek. "Granted you may not be Sunstreaker level of beautiful, but there's character and charm here, and an amazing smile."

Wheeljack's optics darkened slightly in embarrassment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been praised for his looks, but then he had inadvertently spent vorns hiding his face. "Then he tried to plug into me," he continued.

"Even if he had managed to do that your new firewalls would have protected you," Jazz assured him, "but we wouldn't..."

"Jazz would you let me finish," Wheeljack said in exasperation. He knew that the next part of what he had to say was the hardest, and he wasn't sure how Jazz would react. He steeled himself for the worst and made himself speak. "All I could think of was that if he did manage to make the connection he'd recognise me I'd blow all the hard work we put in to looking and acting like Decepticons. I could have gotten us all killed because I didn't tell you the whole truth before we came out here."

To his relief Jazz didn't pull away, but he did find himself on the receiving end of a very sharp look. "Starscream didn't just work in the same lab as me; that was just how it started. We were together, and it was serious."

"Oh Primus," Jazz whispered, but there was no scorn in his tone, just sympathy and concern. "Well, I can understand why you didn't tell me, and don't worry I won't mention it to the others," he was buying himself time to think as he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, but he also knew that the worst thing he could do was reject his friend in any way. "They know that you don't interface casually, and that should be enough to explain why you're so shaken."

"Thank you," Wheeljack said weakly. His fear was subsiding, and leaving him with nothing.

"It's okay," Jazz told him. "I'll remind everyone that Starscream isn't to be allowed anywhere near you, although I doubt he'll be a problem for a while, and I think it might be a good idea if you moved into my quarters for now too, you shouldn't be alone."

"I thought you didn't want any of us _distracting _each other while we are on a mission?" It was a pathetic attempt at humour, but it was the best he could manage, and Jazz did smile slightly.

"Do you really think that Hound and 'Breaker haven't touched each other since we got here?" Jazz asked seriously, "so long as they wait until after the cycle's work is done it's nothing to do with me, but that wasn't what I was thinking about. You need someone who can make you feel safe, and I hope I can do that for you."

Wheeljack nodded, and let Jazz pull him to his feet. He didn't look at anyone as they stepped back inside, he couldn't, he'd put them in danger by not telling them the truth, and he was ashamed of himself, fortunately one look from Jazz was enough to make them leave him alone, and he started what felt like the longest walk of his life up to Jazz's quarters.

Jazz paused briefly to fill in the rest of his unit, and congratulate the twins on their performances, before following Wheeljack to his room high in the rafters of the warehouse. Until recently it had been a overseer's office, but Jazz had blacked out most of the windows so that it felt more private, although only a supreme would have been able to look into it.

Wheeljack curled up on the berth feeling pathetic and worthless.

Jazz tucked himself around the engineer and held him until he slipped into an uneasy recharge, the black and white stayed online for a while until he was sure that Wheeljack was settled enough to stop twitching and whimpering. He was seriously worried about his friend and resolved to take better care of him in the future.

* * *

><p>They rose early the following cycle. They still had a lot to do in Antihex, and Wheeljack in particular was keen to get to work as he hoped it would make up for how useless he had felt the night before. They were both surprised to find Trailbreaker with his feet up on a table, and recharging in the area that they had set aside for relaxing and drinking their energon.<p>

"Don't you have a berth for that?" Jazz asked, as Trailbreaker came back online and looked at them groggily. "You and Hound haven't had a fight have you?"

"No," Trailbreaker assured him, "But he did tell me what happened, I just wanted to make sure that Wheeljack was okay before I got my head down, I only got back from my latest refugee run a few breems ago."

"I'm still a bit shaky, but I'll be fine," Wheeljack said quickly. "Jazz has been looking after me."

Jazz excused himself to find them some energon, and Trailbreaker gave Wheeljack a piercing look. "That's sort of what I was worried about," Trailbreaker admitted, "I'm not sure what's going on between you two, but I think you should be careful around him. Hound told me that he was fooling around with another mech just a few cycles ago."

"The other mech kissed him," Wheeljack stated, "I think there was a mutual attraction, but Jazz told me that he never wants to know the mechs name, so make of that what you will, and actually I think last night helped me understand him better. Jazz and I are whatever we need the other to be," he finished enigmatically. He didn't really want to talk about it further, especially to Trailbreaker who had a rather unnerving habit of being completely honest about everything, but his processor felt clearer than it had for some time.

Since they had first met a little over a vorn earlier he and Jazz had shared an unusual, if interesting, relationship. They had been commander and subordinate, confidants, lovers and friends, although not necessarily in that order, but for the time being at least Jazz was the thing he needed most in the world; someone he could trust completely.

Jazz came back to them to find Wheeljack wearing his first true smile since Starscream's arrival the night before. He didn't know what had gone on, and decided not to ask. "Drink up mechs, we have work to do."


	13. Chapter 13

**Part 13**

It was time to run, Jazz knew that without question, in truth it was past time. He should have run a long time ago and never stopped, but should haves and maybes weren't what concerned him.

In the forty-odd cycles his unit had been in Antihex he and his team had organised the escapes of over two hundred 'bots. It hadn't been easy, there had been a few casualties, but Jazz couldn't allow himself to think about those unfortunates. He had to concentrate on the ones he had been able to help, and on those that were still waiting for him.

He could almost feel the net tightening around him, around all of them. The Seekers had been checking up on them more and more often, although thankfully Starscream had kept his distance. They clearly had no proof or Jazz and his friends would have already been taken care of, but that didn't mean that they were safe. The only certainty he had was that none of them were safe.

There was, however, hope, and the source of that hope was what currently held his attention. A few cycles earlier, just as Jazz was starting to wonder if he could get everyone out of Antihex, Wheeljack had found a damaged shuttle, and with help from Trailbreaker, had managed to get it to their warehouse. It was a little larger than Trailbreaker's craft and Wheeljack had assured him that with a little work it, and their ship, would have enough space between them to get the sixty or so mechs, femmes and sparklings that were still waiting to be taken out Antihex.

The whole thing was a huge gamble, and well beyond anything Jazz had orchestrated so far, but he couldn't think of another option.

Wheeljack shoved himself out from under the shuttle, and smiled up at Jazz. "We'll get there," he said simply.

"How long?" Jazz asked.

"A cycle at most. Sideswipe already _acquired_ the last few parts I needed, the rest is easy."

"Good job 'Jack. Keep me updated." Jazz turned to look at the rest of his unit. "Sides, well done."

Sideswipe nodded.

"We still have a long way to go though. Sunny, Sides, Hound, you'll be working with me rounding everyone up, moving them here. No large groups remember? 'Jack, if you need any help call 'Breaker in, okay?"

"No problem," Wheeljack agreed. "Trailbreaker knows more about shuttles than the rest of you put together."

Jazz forced a smile; he hated leaving Wheeljack alone anywhere in the city, even if their warehouse was supposedly safe. He led the other three out, pointed them off to roughly quarter the city, dropped into his alt-mode and raced off into the dark. There was hardly any power outside the Seeker's base.

His main advantages were that the further he was from the centre of the city the fewer Seeker patrols there were, and as Seeker's almost always patrolled from the air he could usually hear them coming, but he didn't let his guard down.

His first stop was only a few breems away, and the easiest of all of them. A small group of minibots had set up a temporary camp in an abandoned service tunnel. Hound had originally found them close to the city limits, but when Jazz had told them how they would be leaving they had slowly moved closer to the warehouse, even scavenged a few of the parts Wheeljack had needed.

With one last scan to make sure that there was no one else in the area, Jazz opened a service hatch and dropped down into the tunnel. "Cliffjumper! Windcharger! It's Switch!" He hadn't told them his real name. He hadn't dared trust them with it, because he didn't know how well they could stand up to interrogation should any of them be caught.

He wasn't surprised to find that he couldn't move. Windcharger had the ability to manipulate electro-magnetic fields, and like most of the minibots he was keen to show everyone that his size didn't mean he should be underestimated. It was only fair that they didn't trust him either, but he was their best chance of escape.

"Kill me or release me Windcharger," Jazz snapped, "but do not waste my time!"

"We're close then?" Windcharger asked eagerly.

"A cycle at most. We need to get everyone to the warehouse as soon as possible, I'd appreciate any help you can give me."

"Some of us know these tunnels well enough to be of use," Windcharger told him, "the rest will go straight to the warehouse."

"I'll be glad for that too," Jazz admitted, "I've never liked leaving Hammer alone."

"Is that because you don't trust him?" Windcharger asked, "or because you trust him too much?" It seemed clear that he wasn't expecting an answer, maybe he was even surprised by how much Jazz had already said. Usually their conversations revolved solely around the possibility of escape.

The small red mech led Jazz down the tunnel to the camp. All six mech that were already there looked up expectantly as they approached. "Is it time?" Cliffjumper asked impatiently.

Jazz reiterated what he had already told Windcharger and Cliffjumper bounced eagerly to his feet. "Bumblebee, Brawn and I have explored these tunnels. We'll go with you while the rest join Hammer."

"Thank you," Jazz said gratefully. "Are you ready?"

"We've been ready for cycles," Cliffjumper told him. "Where do you need to go?"

Jazz reeled off the list of coordinates, and after sharing a quick glance the three minibots led him down one of the tunnels. Finding the other small groups dotted around the edges of the city seemed to take a lifetime, but Jazz's determination didn't waver. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was their last chance, and that spurred him on every time exhaustion crept in.

* * *

><p>Almost a cycle, and more near misses than Jazz cared to count, later Jazz led the last of his charges back to the warehouse. The femme and sparkling he had escorted back seemed to melt into the crowd that were already waiting, and Jazz pushed the story she had told him from his processor, just listening to what she had suffered had been spark-wrenching, but he couldn't afford the distraction any longer.<p>

"Give me some good news Hammer?" He was close to pleading.

"We'll be ready in a few breems, no one was seen and Wrecker is inbound," Wheeljack reported quickly.

"Thank Primus," Jazz murmured. "Does everyone know what they're doing?"

"We've divided the evacuees up, put the twins in charge of a group each, and told them not to lose sight of their assigned mech. Swipe is loving all the attention, and Rage seems to have attracted a couple of admirers somehow."

Jazz chuckled, and eased some of the tension out of his frame. His scanners picked up Steelhaven a moment later. "It's time," he announced. "Hammer, I wish you luck."

"You too," Wheeljack said sincerely.

Jazz nodded once and turned away. "Swipe!" he bellowed, "get them aboard. Rage, with me!"

Everyone moved at once, but Jazz was pleased to see that no one looked panicked. He wondered if any of them had realised that the next few breems could be some of the most dangerous of their lives. Sunstreaker fell into step with him as he crossed the warehouse, the quad at the back of the building was the safest place that Steelhaven could land within the city, but it was still a huge risk, one Seeker was all it would take.

He hustled the crowd into Steelhaven's hold and ran up through the small cabins to join Trailbreaker at the helm. The big, black mech shot him a grin and started the take-off procedure.

"She's keening a bit." Jazz said softly as his audios picked up a tiny difference in the usual engine noises.

"She doesn't like all these tight landings you've been putting her through recently," Trailbreaker explained. "She's flying fine though, and I've booked her in with maintenance."

Jazz was satisfied. He'd known that Trailbreaker would have long since picked up any real problem, but he also knew that Trailbreaker liked it when someone else showed concern for his shuttle.

The breems past intolerably slowly for Jazz. Steelhaven was fast and agile, but he doubted she could outrun a Seeker. He tried to distract himself, but part of his processor wouldn't stop trying to compute how far they had to get from Antihex before they were safe.

_Further than this,_ Jazz realised as three small dots appeared on Steelhaven's scanner. _"Sunstreaker get on the cannon,"_ he ordered across the comms. "'Breaker."

"I'm doing my best Jazz," Trailbreaker told him before he activated his own comm-link. _"Hound keep ahead of us. We've got weapons and shields, you've got frag all."_

"_I've got a Wheeljack,"_Hound responded. _"He's got a few ideas that should help us if we get caught, not that I'm looking for trouble."_

"_It usually knows where we are anyway,"_Trailbreaker grumbled. "I've put the call out to Nova Cronum too," he told Jazz. "We'll have help if we can keep ahead for long enough."

"Chances?" Jazz asked.

"Even bet," Trailbreaker responded.

Jazz forced down his fear and focused on the weapon and shield controls. His primary concern had to be keeping the Seekers away from the other shuttle. A rumble went through the shuttle, followed by several screams from the passengers, they'd taken a hit, but the shields had held.

"Their aims improving," Trailbreaker growled.

"So is Sunstreaker's," Jazz informed his friend. "One of them is down already."

"That'll just frag off the rest of them. Seeker's may not care about anyone else, but they look after their own."

Another hit rocked the shuttle, and Trailbreaker cursed loudly. "Stop shooting at my ship!" he shouted once he had run out of derogatory terms for the Seekers. "Not a word Jazz," he said in a low rumble to the only mech who had heard him.

"Not one," Jazz assured him, "but you have given me an idea, do you think we can hack their comms?"

"We're out of hub range," Trailbreaker muttered, "but if we can find their private frequencies, maybe, I've never tried."

Jazz scanned every frequency he could manage, it wasn't easy, there were thousands, and he had his hands full with the weapon's controls too. After a breem or so, and several more shots that slowly degraded the shuttle's shields, he found it. He picked out a piece of music at random, bumped up the pitch and played it down the comm as loudly as possible.

Beside him Trailbreaker screamed, a shot had pierced the cabin and debris flew everywhere. Trailbreaker threw up a force-field in an attempt to keep them safe, but flame engulfed the cabin and obliterated the helm controls.

Jazz saw the force-field expand, Trailbreaker was pushing himself to his limits in the hope that he could protect their passengers, but it was draining his energy levels rapidly. The black mech's heroics managed to absorb the worst of the impact as they crashed, but when his energy ran out they were trapped by the flames, and they were the last thing Jazz saw before his injuries overwhelmed him.

* * *

><p>The harsh memory of pain and fire brought Jazz back online with a start, he was restrained and that only served to heighten his panic levels before he realised that Wheeljack's soothing voice was speaking to him.<p>

"I can't move," he hissed angrily.

"The medics didn't trust you after last time," Wheeljack said with forced humour.

"I don't blame them," Jazz murmured glumly, "but I know where I am now, release me."

Wheeljack did as he was instructed and sat down on the edge of the berth. "Your trick with the comm drove the Seekers off, the Nova Cronum shuttle arrived a few moments later," he explained.

"That's good," Jazz nodded. "Now you can tell me why you look like someone just kicked you in the skid-plate," he prompted his friend.

"You and 'Breaker took the worst of the damage when you crashed," Wheeljack began hesitantly, "we almost lost both of you, and he's still in a critical condition."

"Primus," Jazz whispered. For all the vorns he had known Trailbreaker he had always thought of him as indestructible, and the thought of him fighting for his life was a horrifying one. "I hoped that it wouldn't come to this," he murmured.

"We all did," Wheeljack assured him. "Don't blame yourself Jazz, we all knew the dangers when we signed up, you've led us well and if you hadn't stepped up when you did I doubt any of us would have made it out of Perihex."

Jazz glared at his friend. "Don't underestimate yourself," he snapped, "I was a fool to think I could lead you, I had no experience of war, I don't plan..."

"You were used to 'bots listening to you," Wheeljack interrupted. "The first time we met you told me that you learnt fast and never made the same mistake twice, and you weren't exaggerating."

"I found plenty more to make," Jazz retorted in a bitter tone, "and now, because of me 'Breaker is suffering."

"Because of you over three hundred mechs, femmes and sparklings are free and safe," Wheeljack reminded him sternly. "Was that a mistake? We had a good run Jazz, more than forty cycles in a hostile city and we all got out alive, even Roadbuster said that the Wreckers couldn't have done any better. We did the right thing, and all of us would do it again."

"And what happens if next time one of us gets killed?" Jazz asked bitterly. "Do you think I could stand losing any of you? You're my friends, but I'm your commander. I see what needs to be done and I put you all in danger, what sort of friend does that?"

"The sort gives everything," Wheeljack answered, his voice as suddenly calm and soothing again, "I didn't know you before the war, but 'Breaker did and he told me what you used to be like. He said that you were like the music you played, amazing, unpredictable and wild, but this war and your fears have wrapped you in chains, taken away your freedom, and while I don't doubt the friendship that you found in us, I don't think you've ever felt so alone."

Jazz stared at his friend for a long moment and when he did speak, it was in a hushed whisper, "I haven't been alone since Perihex, have I?" he asked hesitantly.

Wheeljack shook his head slowly. "I've always known that I couldn't protect you from the war, but that won't stop me trying."

Jazz slumped against his friend. "I may have to let you," he whispered, "I'm not sure I can deal with this. Can I see 'Breaker? And how's Hound?"

"Hound hasn't left his side since we got you back. He's coping, and he'd not angry with you, but he hasn't recharged in over a cycle. I'm worried about him, but I wouldn't try to separate them. I'll take you to see them in a breem, I just want to check you over first."

"I'm fine," Jazz said stubbornly.

Wheeljack poked a freshly repaired seam of Jazz's armour, and watched his commander flinch away. "No, you're not. New and restored parts may look nice and shiny, but they need a few cycles at assimilate properly, so you're going to take it easy, or I'll have you confined to quarters."

Jazz chuckled. "And there was me thinking that I was your commander," he said dryly.

"You're in the med-bay now," Wheeljack said by way of explanation, and he watched with some amusement as Jazz seemed to realise that he was beaten. "Come on, 'Breaker's in the back room."

Any trace of Jazz's humour disappeared instantly, he squared his shoulders, and followed his friend.

Hound's optics snapped to them as soon as they walked through the door, he gave Jazz a tiny smile to indicate that he was happy to see him up and about, but then he looked back to Trailbreaker, and his optics darkened with worry. Trailbreaker's right leg was completely missing below his knee joint, there didn't seem to be a panel on him that wasn't dented, and although the mech's black paint-job hid most of the damage the unmistakable smell of burnt transistors hung in the air.

"How is he?" Jazz asked, as he laid what he hoped was a comforting hand on the scout's shoulder.

"You just missed the medic, he's finally happy that 'Breaker's starting to assimilate his new parts, he was so drained when he came in that his self-repair systems weren't working properly. The rest is cosmetic, apart from his optics, it's looking like the best option might be a visor like yours."

"I'm so sorry," Jazz whispered.

"That won't help us now Jazz," Hound said sternly.

"So what can I do?"

"Give us some time," Hound requested. "I know that you were going to give us some leave once we got back, but we're going to need more than a couple of cycles. 'Breaker's going to need time to adjust to his visor, and I'm not leaving him."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Jazz said gravely.

"Thank you," the scout whispered.

"I'd better move out," Jazz started to excuse himself. "Comm me if you need anything." He made his escape, Wheeljack followed him and found him leaning against a wall outside.

"What about you?" the engineer asked. "What do you need?"

"A fast shuttle out of here would be nice," Jazz said wistfully. "There are cycles when I wish I'd never stopped running."

"You're doing a good job Jazz," Wheeljack assured him. "But maybe you should get out of here for a few cycles, it might do you some good, remind you what you're fighting for."

"I can't leave now."

"Well I didn't mean right now," Wheeljack corrected him, "but in a cycle or so, when 'Breaker's a little better you could make an excuse, slip away for a while."

"I can't do that 'Jack," Jazz protested.

"Then let me do it for you," Wheeljack pleaded with him. "In a cycle I'll say that an acquaintance of mine needs help with something scientific and that I have to go, you can show some interest, I'll ask if you want to come with, I could even bribe one of the medics to say that the rest would do you good, all you have to do is pick a city."

"Praxus," Jazz said almost instantly. "'Breaker knows that I love it there, that I'd find it hard not to go back. I even had living quarters there once."

"I didn't think you actually lived anywhere," Wheeljack said in surprise.

"Which is why I gave them up, I was never short on credits 'Jack, just time. The only place I ever spent any real time was aboard Haven. I cut the lease and used what I saved to pay for 'Breaker's force-fields."

"So you'll be going home," Wheeljack said conversationally. Jazz's past had always intrigued him, but he rarely got the chance to ask about it.

"Something like that," Jazz answered evasively. For a moment Wheeljack wondered if he was having second thoughts about getting away, maybe he was, but after a moment he smiled and relaxed a little. "Take me away then 'Jack. Let's pretend that we're still normal, and have lives, we'll have a few lazy cycles while 'Breaker recovers, and hope the war ends while we're gone."

Wheeljack nodded and experimentally touched Jazz's hand, it was a clumsy way to be sure, but he needed as much. Jazz accepted the hand and held on to it like a lifeline. Wheeljack knew instantly what Jazz was asking of him, he didn't mind, in fact he was quite looking forward to it, but it had been a long time since Jazz had asked him for sanctuary.

A.N: Quick thank you to EmperialGem21 for the lovely review I found in my inbox this morning (it'd been there for a couple of days but I've been out in the sticks visiting family). It made my day, and helped me write a little bit faster, I hadn't intended to update until late tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Thanks to everyone for reading, catch you around this time next week. Take care, FB.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

A.N: I didn't actually realise how long this chapter was until I separated it out to post it, whoops, hopefully it's not too long. My inner hippy may have gotten carried away with the crystals in this chapter, I apologise, but I think it works.

It's also one of few parts that had a provisional title, so with a warning for lots of interfacing that I hope you'll enjoy I give you 'Jazz and 'Jack's dirty weekend'. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 14<strong>

The two mechs stepped off the shuttle and quickly lost themselves in the crowd. As soon as they were out of the dock Wheeljack retracted his facemask and gave Jazz a pointed look. "There's no need to hide here," he said softly. "You're safe."

More than a little reluctantly Jazz retracted his visor, his golden optics shifting uneasily until Wheeljack touched his hand reassuringly. "I'm fine," Jazz smiled. "I'm just trying to get my bearings. It's been a long time since I was last in Praxus, and I never used this dock before." His smile widened. "There we are," he said with some relief.

"Where are we going?" Wheeljack asked as Jazz led him through the streets.

"I called in a favour before we left Nova Cronum," Jazz smiled, and Wheeljack couldn't help but notice that some of his usual swagger was back. They walked through the streets for some time. Jazz pointed out a few familiar landmarks, Wheeljack nodded and asked a few questions partly out of interest, but mostly because he knew that it was helping Jazz to feel at ease.

At length Jazz led him into a grand building with a vast, vaulted lobby.

"It's beautiful," Wheeljack observed.

"I always thought so," Jazz agreed.

"You've stayed here before?" the engineer asked conversationally.

"Only if you count me and one of the serving mechs borrowing a room while it's real tenant was at a ball," Jazz grinned.

Wheeljack stifled a laugh. "Always taking the chances."

"They were worth it," Jazz smiled, "I played here a few times, put up with the noble 'bots who thought that they were better than me, danced around the proud creators who wanted to introduce me to their offspring; I think they thought that having a musician in the fold would make them seem more interesting. Some of them knew my reputation and we had some fun, but that was all they ever were."

"I seem to remember you telling me that I was the same thing," Wheeljack said with a smirk.

"I meant it at the time," Jazz retorted with a disarming grin. "Can I help it if you got under my plating?"

"I intend to do more than that once we're alone," Wheeljack hissed as they approached the main desk.

"Yes gentlemechs, can I help you?" the femme behind it greeted them.

If Jazz noticed the hint of disdain in her voice he gave no outward sign, but he couldn't really blame her, neither of them were clean and both of their paint-jobs had gotten more than a little chipped in the line of duty. "We have a reservation, the name's Jazz."

The femme perked up slightly. "It's been a long time since you were last here. I have your pass-key here, do you have any luggage?"

"Not a thing," Jazz said brightly, "we kinda came here on a whim, didn't have time to pack."

"Then I'll show you up, and if you need anything just call the desk."

"I know where I'm going," Jazz assured her. He plucked the pass-key out of her hand, gave her a winning smile and led Wheeljack away. "I don't like 'bots like that much," he explained as they stepped into the lift. "But," he added with a sly grin, "I don't intend seeing much of anyone but you over the next few cycles." He stole a quick but passionate kiss and led the way out of the lift. "And this is us." He swiped the card with a flourish, and stepped back so that Wheeljack could get the first look.

"It's magnificent," Wheeljack gapped as his optics flickered around the palatial room. "It's too much."

"It's less than you deserve," Jazz told him. "You deserve to be treated like someone precious for the rest of your life."

"I'd be bored within cycles," Wheeljack chuckled, "I'll take this for now."

"I haven't even shown you the best parts yet," Jazz grinned and he threw open one of the doors that led off the main room.

"Is that...?"

"A hot oil bath," Jazz beamed. "The closest we can get to total bliss this side of the Matrix, baring the very best of overloads anyway." His fingers tapped the keypad. "It takes a while to heat up. Oh, I know what you haven't seen yet." He practically danced out of the room.

Wheeljack chuckled and followed him. On the other side of the main room was another door, and Jazz opened it to reveal a sumptuous double berth draped in a material that Wheeljack had never seen the like of. "Wow," he murmured as he ran his fingers through the strange cloth.

"You'll have the best recharge of your life on one of these things," Jazz promised.

"You've used one before?" Wheeljack asked.

Jazz nodded. "An oil tub too. I wanted to spoil you, and this is the best way I know how." He touched another discrete console and music filled the rooms.

Wheeljack found himself swept into the slow rhythm, and for a while the two mechs lost themselves in the dance. Wheeljack had never considered himself a graceful mech, he could be light on his feet when he wished to be, his time in Jazz's unit had taught him that much, but in that moment, and in Jazz's arms he found it easy to flow with Jazz's lithe movements.

On a meandering path Jazz took them back to to the bath, and stepped easily into the pool.

"Sweet Primus," Wheeljack exclaimed as they sank into the hot oil. "This is amazing." He marvelled at the way the fluid undulated around him, taking away the weight of his cables, and soothing systems that had been pushed to their tolerance limits only a few cycles before.

For a while they just lay there exchanging smiles, and allowing their tensions to melt away.

"You said that you'd been in one of these before," Wheeljack mused lazily.

Jazz let out a short laugh. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come back to that. You seem to like hearing about my affairs."

"Well, I never had any," Wheeljack smiled, "and you always make them sound so much fun."

"Most of them were," Jazz admitted, "and if you want to know I had a brief, but passionate, affair with the first sparked of the governor of Uraya. His creators objected, called me a bad influence, he called me his 'little rebellion', the only one he ever had but he was determined to make the most of it. His creators eventually warmed to me after I introduced him to a lovely little femme, who later became his bond-mate."

Wheeljack chuckled. "Trailbreaker told me that you have a habit of doing that."

"He thinks that I see the patterns of love."

"Do you?"

Jazz chuckled again. "My instincts are good, but even I can't see things that aren't there. 'Breaker's an old romantic, he likes to believe that there's a plan, someone for everyone, maybe he's right, I have no idea. Only Primus can know for certain."

"You introduced him to Hound."

"That was an educated guess. I know 'Breaker well enough to know what he likes and needs. Hound ticked all the boxes."

"So Primus is the one with the plan, and you're just helping him out?"

"Can't hurt, can it?" Jazz muttered. "It might just keep me out of the smelting pit when my time comes."

"You're a good mech Jazz," Wheeljack assured him.

Jazz shrugged and settled into the hot oil again, trying to look relaxed and hoping that Wheeljack wouldn't push the matter. In his opinion Wheeljack saw the best in everyone and often failed to detect their faults.

Wheeljack let the silence last about a breem. He knew that if Jazz didn't pick up the conversation again in that time he never would. After that he slowly coaxed Jazz into his arms and felt the black and white lean into him, a sure sign that Jazz was starting to relax again.

Before long Jazz was running his hands across Wheeljack's plating, grazing them just hard enough to cause friction and force the engineer's sensory net to respond. He was rewarded by the sound of Wheeljack's coolant fans kicking up a gear.

Turning in the other mech's arms Jazz pressed harder, the slick oil changed the sensations, and as a result their processors took more notice of the information they were being supplied. The result was sublime.

As Wheeljack writhed in pleasure beneath him Jazz forced down his own arousal. He wanted to drive his lover wild, hear him call out, arch against his body, and he knew that if he succumbed to his own overload he would miss that precious moment when Wheeljack surrendered, and he wanted to see that more than anything.

"Jazz!" Wheeljack cried out, it was a sure sign that he was close.

Jazz grinned to himself and pushed harder. Wheeljack's vocal indicators flashed but he didn't make a sound until he overloaded in his lover's arms. Jazz watched and savoured the experience, such moments of joy and pleasure were so rare, and Jazz's enjoyment was heightened by the fact that Wheeljack hadn't even thought about the lights, so for the first time Jazz could truly see his lover's pleasure.

"I could get used to that," Wheeljack murmured as he became able to speak again.

Jazz kissed him. "I wish you could," he said sincerely, "but this can't last."

"We'd best make the most of it then," Wheeljack responded cheerfully.

At length the two mechs rose from their luxurious languor, and Wheeljack snatched up two of the specially engineered towels that were designed to soak up any residual oil. He wrapped one carefully around Jazz, threw the other over his own shoulders before he settled his attention on rubbing his lover down. He enjoyed his self-appointed task, and as Jazz didn't try to push him away he assumed that the feeling was mutual.

When their optics met again Jazz's were aglow with desire, gently but firmly he pushed Wheeljack up against the nearest wall, kissed him fiercely and pinned him.

Wheeljack's cooling fans whirred in delight. "I need to feel you," he pleaded as Jazz nipped at the wiring in his neck. "I need you."

Jazz obliged by connecting their interface cables, and glorious responses coursed through the connection. _Perfect,_ Wheeljack thought. Jazz's relentless desire seemed to fuel their systems and seemed to burn thoughts of anything else from his processor.

As the first flickers of Wheeljack's impending overload sizzled through their uplink Jazz slammed his firewalls up to their highest setting, and as the energy had nowhere else to go it bounced back into Wheeljack.

"Holy Primus," Wheeljack rasped as he regained his equilibrium. "No one has ever done that to me before."

"The timing's tricky," Jazz admitted, "but the results are amazing if you get it right."

Wheeljack shook his head fondly, _is there nothing he can't do perfectly?_ he thought.

Jazz released his lover, stepped back and stumbled.

"Easy," Wheeljack murmured as he caught him. "Are you alright?" he asked as he ran a scan over the saboteur, just in case he decided to lie. "Your energy levels are low, when did you last refuel?"

"Before we got on the shuttle."

Wheeljack didn't ask how long before they'd travelled, instead he scooped him up easily and carried him out. "You're still healing Jazz," he said sternly, "you need to keep your energy levels up so that your self-repair systems can work properly. Now, you're going to rest for a while, we're going to have some energon and I'm going to take care of you."

Jazz smiled weakly, his lack of protest gave Wheeljack a fair idea of just how delicate he was feeling, but he resisted the temptation to make a big deal out of it. To do so would only bring out Jazz's stubborn streak. Instead the engineer laid him out carefully on the berth, dropped a kiss on to the top of his helm and left again to find the much needed fuel.

It took him almost half a breem to locate an elaborately decorated panel that slid effortlessly to the side and revealed several ornate pumps that dispensed various types of energon; high, low and mid-grade, as well as some with a few additives in them. All of them were well refined. Wheeljack selected a good high-grade for himself, a less potent mixture for Jazz, and after investigating the canisters that rested at either end of the compartment and discovering a selection of energon goodies, he added a few of those to the tray too.

He'd half expected Jazz to be in recharge when he returned to the adjacent chamber, but although Jazz's optics were a little dimmer than usual he was still online.

"How are you feeling?" Wheeljack asked as he set down the tray.

"Pathetic," Jazz answered with a slightly forced smile.

"Are you hurting?"

"No, just a little feeble."

Wheeljack slipped into the berth, made himself comfortable and pulled Jazz into his arms to help him drink.

"Thank you," Jazz said sincerely when he had finished.

"My pleasure," Wheeljack assured him. "Relax a while." He reached out, selected one of the energon goodies and offered it to Jazz, who ate it out of his hand. "I think I could stand this for half a cycle or so," he teased.

For a while they chatted, fed each other, teased and cuddled. Both of them agreed that it was a wonderful way of spending time.

Eventually Jazz did drift into recharge, Wheeljack watched him for a breem or so noticing the contented look on his lover's handsome faceplates, and the ease with which he lay curled against him. _You could have your pick of any 'bot on this planet,_ he mused, _so why did you pick me?_ He'd asked himself the same question more than once, but he'd never arrived at a satisfactory answer. He doubted he ever would.

* * *

><p>Jazz was the first to come back online the next morning. He stretched out the cables in his shoulders lazily and looked over at Wheeljack, who was still recharging, but the speed of his intake vents told Jazz that he wouldn't be for much longer. Less than a breem later Wheeljack's optics flickered and met his. Jazz greeted him with a kiss. "Morning," he said softly.<p>

"How are you feeling?" Wheeljack asked.

"Wonderful," Jazz grinned. "Best recharge I've had in vorns, and my self-repair systems finished their work while I was under. Everything's running perfectly."

Wheeljack ran a quick scan over him to make sure he was telling the truth.

"You want proof?" Jazz asked slyly. "You've got it." He pounced.

Taken by surprise Wheeljack didn't have time to resist, not that he really wanted to.

"I could do this all cycle," Jazz whispered softly as his fingers found the gaps in Wheeljack's armour and he teased the delicate wiring underneath.

"A cycle of overloads," Wheeljack murmured as he arched into the touches. "Sounds perfect. Will you join me?"

"Later," Jazz assured him. He cut off any further conversation with a searing kiss.

Wheeljack's energy-field flared beyond his control causing Jazz to cry out in ecstasy, but the black and white retaliated quickly razing Wheeljack's circuits with his own field, until he drove him over the edge.

Much later Wheeljack reclined lazily while Jazz fetched them some energon. "When was the last time you just went for a walk?" Jazz asked curiously as he walked back in.

"No idea," Wheeljack answered.

"Then that is something we shall have to rectify," Jazz said mysteriously.

With their energon consumed Jazz chivvied Wheeljack out of the berth, and led him out into the busy streets.

Grand buildings rose up on all sides, well maintained mechs and femmes mingled gracefully, Jazz watched them and could almost feel the rhythm that they moved to.

"I've never seen anything like this," Wheeljack said quietly after a few breems, "even before the war."

"You're about to see why," Jazz grinned.

They turned a corner, stepped through a wide arch and Wheeljack stopped dead. "By Primus," he murmured.

"Welcome to one of the true wonders of our world," Jazz said cheerfully.

Before them the Crystal Gardens of Praxus stretched out and glittered in a thousand hues of refracted light.

"The crystals were a gift from Crystal City," Jazz explained, "The creations of the two governors chose to bond, their union brought about an alliance and within a few vorns the first Golden Age of Cybertron began. There have been wars over the thousands of vorns since then, but not one of them has ever touched Praxus. If there is a chance for peace on our planet it's here."

"Maybe all the great cities should have these crystals," Wheeljack said in a hushed, awed tone.

"They should," Jazz agreed, "but unfortunately there are only two sets like this. The other is in Crystal City itself, but this is the larger, and the more powerful."

"Did one of your flings include a history student?" Wheeljack asked with a grin.

Jazz laughed. "He was a professor actually, from the Research Institute of Iacon."

"You glaze over when I start talking about technical things," Wheeljack said indignantly, "last time I told you about one of my inventions you went into recharge."

"I was exhausted," Jazz protested, "and I did try to listen. I try to learn something from everyone I meet."

"What did you learn from me?" Wheeljack asked curiously.

Jazz turned to look his lover in the optics and leaned in close. "Faith," he said simply, "and a few tricks that will serve me well further down the line," he added cheekily. "Do you want to see what I learned from the professor?"

Wheeljack looked a little doubtful, but Jazz took him by the hand and pulled him along anyway. Once they were deep inside the crystal labyrinth Jazz stepped off the path and touched one of the gems.

"Are you supposed to do that?" Wheeljack asked.

Jazz shrugged. "No one has ever told me that I shouldn't."

"I happen to know from experience that it's very hard to tell you not to do something," Wheeljack said dryly, "but you've known that for a long time, haven't you?"

"A mech has to get by with what he has," Jazz said with a smile. "Your turn."

"Jazz!" Wheeljack protested as the black and white pushed him closer to one of the crystals.

"No one's around, and I was taught this by a professor," Jazz assured him. "He wouldn't have taught me if it could damage anything, would he?"

"I guess not," Wheeljack muttered. He stepped forward and reached out, the smooth surface of the crystal was surprisingly warm and welcoming.

"There are over three hundred crystals in this garden," Jazz told him in a soft but serious tone, "all perfectly harmonised. When the wind blows through here they seem to sing, almost as if they are alive, but on a calm cycle like this one they just resonate with positive emotions; happiness, peace..." with a grin Jazz leaned in and kissed his lover until Wheeljack's knees buckled. "Pleasure," he whispered.

"I see," Wheeljack mumbled as he tried to steady himself. "You and your professor must have had some fun."

"Oh, we did," Jazz grinned, "but this isn't about him. It's about you and me." He pressed closer, his fingers grazing across Wheeljack's armour just hard enough to set off his pressure sensors.

"This is a public place," Wheeljack protested as his cooling systems kicked up a gear.

"Relax," Jazz instructed. "I can guarantee that you're not the first."

"And I won't be the last if you have anything to do with it," Wheeljack teased. He kept his tone light, but he couldn't help wondering just how many mechs and femmes Jazz had treated in the same manner.

"I don't bring just anyone here, you know?" Jazz said as if he could hear Wheeljack's thoughts. "A couple of servings of high-grade and the right words usually get me what I want. I know I can be flippant, and that my past speaks for itself, but you are special 'Jack."

"Thank you," Wheeljack said in a grateful tone. "Now, how about we head back to our room and we can finish what you started," he added with a glint in his optics.

"Sounds like a plan," Jazz agreed, and as he let Wheeljack lead the way he started to make his own plans.

Back at their room Jazz barely allowed Wheeljack to step through the door before he deftly pinned his lover to the nearest wall and kissed him thoroughly. "I knew I was going to enjoy this cycle," he murmured as his fingers worked their way down Wheeljack's chest-plate.

He caught one of Wheeljack's hands and Wheeljack felt something being pressed into his palm, he looked down just in time to see a tiny shard of crystal gleam before Jazz closed his fingers around it for him, and he felt the same sense of peace and warmth flow through him as he had a few breems earlier in the gardens.

"Jazz," he whispered as his cooling fans started to whir again.

"Don't fight it lover," Jazz whispered. "You have to surrender or it doesn't work."

"What about you?" Wheeljack asked.

"I'm having a fantastic time."

"But..."

"Don't argue with me 'Jack," Jazz said in a close approximation of what he called his commanders voice. Wheeljack found himself powerless to resist. The overload that followed soon after felt somehow gentler than usual, and the difference in the sensation left Wheeljack helpless in his lover's arms.

"You're spoiling me," he whispered as his systems returned to normal.

"I did tell you that I intended to," Jazz responded lazily. He was as at-ease as Wheeljack had ever seen him, a contented smile played on his lips, and his optics shone with happiness.

They rested a while longer, took their energon in the oil bath and started again. This time their love-making was slow and gentle, Jazz seemed to want the session to go on forever, maybe he was aware that their time together was growing short and was reluctant to go back to Nova Cronum, Wheeljack teased himself with the fantasy that Jazz wanted to stay, that maybe they could stay together, entwined, as they currently were.

Tenderly, lovingly he connected their interface cables and felt Jazz's hot plating press harder against his, as well as the thrill of being linked with his lover. Jazz's desire raced through Wheeljack's circuits, there was such need emanating through the link that Wheeljack almost succumbed to his overload immediately, but he held on by sheer determination. He needed Jazz to overload first. Jazz had a habit of holding back so that he could watch, a trait that Wheeljack found incredibly arousing most of the time, but occasionally frustrating.

Wheeljack gently but firmly pushed his energy-field into the black and white, and smiled to himself as Jazz writhed in ecstasy, then bucked as Jazz shoved that energy through their interface cable. For over a breem their battle of wills continued, Wheeljack deployed every trick he had learned, but Jazz countered each of them, hovering on the brink of overloading, but still clinging on somehow.

With every caress, or kiss and their effects being forced back into his own sensor-net Wheeljack's systems were soon pushed to their limits, but he refused to give up. He had one last idea that could help him. Jazz's audio's; he'd used them against his lover before, Jazz had teased him afterwards and called it a dirty tactic, but playing fair just wasn't working. All he had to do was think of something to say, which wasn't easy while his processor was barely managing to keep up with the flow of sensory information that Jazz was streaming in. He bent his neck so that his mouth was as close to Jazz's audio as it could be, and whispered the words he never thought he would say. "I love you."

The reaction he got was only partly what he had expected. The overload was planet shaking, the whole world seemed to tremble, but there was more. Jazz's control snapped, his firewalls crumbled as if turned to ash, Wheeljack felt his interface-cable slide deep into Jazz's systems, and suddenly he was lost in maelstrom of memories. Each one was filled with joy, or pain, or other spark-wrenching emotions that Wheeljack couldn't define, and there was nothing he could do but watch, as he had no idea how to stop Jazz's memories flashing through his processor.

_A crowded bar almost deafened him, but as a gorgeous femme stepped in front of him the rest of the world seemed to melt away. They danced. Jazz wrote songs for her, some of which would be heard all over the world and become as famous as he would, others were for her audios alone. They were his gift to her; the first of many they would share._

_Her name was Symphony, and Jazz's love for her was overwhelming, often driving him to distraction, giving him a sense of purpose and belonging that he would never find anywhere else._

_Images of a mech flickered in. He had made Jazz feel free. He didn't want Jazz's love, he wanted passion. He would call Jazz 'his little rebellion', and sometimes Jazz would tease him by saying that he should have a nick-name too, but Jazz only ever called him Akron._

_Jazz knew that he didn't love the mech, but his desires were too strong. He told Symphony that he was leaving her and she didn't seem surprised, but she asked Jazz for a parting gift. A sparking. Jazz was happy to oblige, even though he knew he wasn't ready. It seemed right somehow, although Jazz wasn't much more than a youngling himself._

_Magical, was how Jazz thought of their bonding, a union beyond all others. He cherished the moment, and hoped that when the time was right Symphony would be waiting for him, she promised him that she would be, and he left._

_His fling with Akron was brief but glorious, everything Jazz had wanted and imagined._

_The sparkling was carried to term and Jazz was there for the separation. He had looked into a pair of tiny blue optics, and discovered a new type of love. One that wasn't based on passion, but an unconditional love that would never fade._

_Jazz had felt that he was living a charmed life. He was famous, he performed for everyone who was anyone, and found more than his fair share of lovers in the crowds. The images flickered quickly. Different nights, different 'bots. Wheeljack barely had time to recognise Trailbreaker. Jazz gave each one all he could in the time they shared, and in the times when he hadn't wanted a lover he returned to Symphony and their sparkling._

_Things shifted. Jazz was travelling, he wasn't even sure where too, but that wasn't unusual..._

_NO!_ Jazz's thought ripped through the uplink, shattering the images and dragging them both back into the present.

Wheeljack found himself lying sprawled next to Jazz, the last flares of his overload still flickering through his body and processor. It was an effort for him to control his limbs, but he managed to get his arms around his lover and pull him close. Jazz's only movement was to rest his head on Wheeljack's shoulder. He seemed completely drained, and it took him nearly a breem to get his vents working properly.

"What happened there Jazz?" Wheeljack asked softly. He was exhausted, but he needed answers before he could relax.

"My firewalls crashed," Jazz replied with an uneasy shrug. "I've been overtaxing them."

"You've been holding back too much you mean?" Wheeljack asked pointedly.

Jazz shifted in his arms, pulling away slightly, and looking more uncomfortable by the micron. "Did you mean what you said?" he asked.

Wheeljack wasn't surprised. Jazz had never liked being on the defensive side. "I did," he admitted, "I hadn't really thought about it, and I certainly never intended to tell you, I'm happy with the way things are, but my vocaliser got away from me because my processor was so full of you I couldn't think straight. Not that I'm complaining of course. I'll leave if you want me to." He tried to rise, and it was a huge effort, but Jazz pulled him back down before he got halfway to sitting up.

"I doubt you'd make it off the berth anyway," Jazz said matter of factly. He was struggling to stay online himself, and decided to address the situation practically. "Rest a while," he murmured, "we'll work the rest out later."

Wheeljack didn't have the energy to suggest anything else, he flopped back down, and let recharge claim him.

* * *

><p>When Wheeljack came back online he didn't feel alone, but there was no one else on the berth. He looked around and saw Jazz standing by the window, an untouched serving of high-grade in one hand, and a far away look in his golden optics.<p>

Wheeljack had always known that Jazz was considerably younger than he was, it wasn't something he thought of often, they were both mature mechs and in some ways Jazz was far more experienced than he was, but in that moment, with that look, Jazz seemed ancient. A thousand life-times of sorrow seemed to look out across the city without seeing it.

Wheeljack slipped off the berth and wrapped his arms around his lover in a gentle embrace. Jazz didn't look up, but he did lean into the contact.

"I hoped that when the time came I could tell you that I loved you back," Jazz said in a near whisper. "I wanted to, sometimes I even dreamed that I would, but the truth is that I was in love a long time ago. I treasured her, worshipped her, gave her everything that was mine to give, and losing her nearly destroyed me. I can't go through all that again."

"Symphony," Wheeljack surmised. "I saw a bit about her when your firewalls went down. I didn't want to, but I didn't know how to stop it, nothing like that has ever happened to me before."

"Me neither. Everything was just so intense and... I couldn't..." he broke off, his body shaking with pent up emotion.

"Easy there dear-spark," Wheeljack soothed him. "Don't push it, take your time."

"The last moment you saw was the worst of my life," Jazz said quietly, "Trailbreaker and I were travelling, I don't even remember where we were, I was just watching the world go by, fiddling with a stylus as I tried to write a song, I didn't know what had hit me at first, I thought that the shuttle had crashed, or the world had ended, but eventually I realised that the bond had been broken, Symphony was dead. She burned, along with hundreds of others, in the fires of Uraya."

"Oh Jazz," Wheeljack said sympathetically. There wasn't much he could say, 'sorry' would sound patronising, 'it's alright' was out as it clearly wasn't, and everything else Wheeljack could come up with was just wrong. He let his actions speak instead, he wrapped Jazz in a loose, comforting embrace and let him take what he needed.

As his processor finally managed to make sense of all information received a lot of Jazz's traits and hang-ups suddenly seemed logical. Losing a bond-mate often killed the surviving 'bot, but Jazz's bond had never been re-enforced. It had been made to create the sparkling, and then Jazz had moved on, which he had always known was the wrong way of doing it, but he also knew that if he had stayed with Symphony he would have died, either in Uraya or as a result of the bond.

"'Breaker is the only other mech who knows what happened," Jazz said after a brief silence. "he was with me, I must have scared the bolts out of him when I collapsed, but he looked after me, kept me going until I was strong enough, actually I don't think he ever stopped."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me Jazz," Wheeljack murmured. "I already know more about you than you're comfortable with."

"I know how your processor works 'Jack," Jazz said firmly. "If you have questions you need answers, without them you just keep thinking it over, and I don't want you to do that." He took a sip of the high-grade he had been clinging to for breems and pressed the rest of the goblet into Wheeljack's hand. "You've been keeping me sane since we started out together, and I thought it was about time I told you why I need you," he reached up and caressed Wheeljack's cheek. "And I do need you 'Jack, I'd be lost without you."

Wheeljack smiled fondly, and nuzzled into the touch. "I guess that'll just have to do," he said graciously, "not many 'bots have that accolade after all."

"I'm glad you see it that way," Jazz nodded. "So, one last night here, what would you like to do?"

"You know this city better than I do," Wheeljack pointed out. "Take me somewhere nice."

Jazz smiled. "I know just the place." He cast a critical optic over Wheeljack's appearance and then his own. "I hate to sound like Sunstreaker, but they won't even let us in the door looking like this, give me a moment."

He called down to the desk and ordered up a couple of cans of their best polish. His order arrived a few breems later, along with a complimentary selection of paints that matched their colours perfectly. Apparently the femme at the desk had decided that polish alone wouldn't be enough. Jazz smiled to himself as he unwrapped the package, and made a mental note to tip her well for her thoughtfulness.

They spent a long time helping each other to get ready, chatting companionably and occasionally giggling like younglings as the chips and scuffs that their jobs had caused slowly disappeared. At length Jazz declared them both fit to be seen in public and led Wheeljack out.

The femme at the desk gave them approving nods as they passed through the lobby. Jazz paused in his usual swagger and bowed deeply before they left, and walked down the street to a high class bar.

It wasn't the sort of place that Wheeljack usually frequented, but it was quiet and cheerful, and once Jazz had greeted a few old acquaintances they settled down to a leisurely evening of conversation and smiles. About halfway through the evening Wheeljack realised that somehow they had gone back to being just good friends again, he couldn't say that he wasn't disappointed, but he wasn't overly upset either. All he really wanted was to have Jazz in his life, it didn't really matter to him how their relationship was defined, so long as they had one.

They did share a berth that night, but no advances were made and in the morning after one last treat in the oil bath they headed back to the docks, where the shuttle was waiting to take them home.

* * *

><p>P.S: I've been trying to keep my ramblings to a minimum on this story, but if I could beg a moment of your time, last Saturday my only son was rushed into hospital with an abscess under his milk-teeth, he's fine now and came home earlier today, I've been writing to keep myself sane, reading reviews to cheer myself up, and I just wanted to say thank you. I am in your debt, if there is one thing I have learned this week it is that a smile is such a simple and easy thing to give, but completely priceless to receive. Take care. FB.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Personal note: My son has come on in leaps and bounds since my last post; he's spent most of the week eating me out of house and home as he didn't eat much while he was in hospital, he's happy, full of energy again, and says to say thank you for the best wishes. I haven't explained fan fiction to him yet, but he was pleased to know that some of my 'internet friends' were thinking of him. Maybe one day I'll manage to write something that doesn't turn into slash and he'll be able to read it.

I'm completely overwhelmed and thrilled by the response to the last chapter, so I decided to update early as a thank you, I know it's not much but it's all I've got. Don't get to used to it, we still have a long way to go, and I know from past experience that I need to keep well ahead.

Oh, and Blitz-Krazi-1, yes the twins will be taking more active roles soon. I've had a bit of a problem with them in these first few chapters, probably because I'm a Jazz nut, but we'll say that I've been a little overambitious with the plot-lines as it sounds better.

Thanks for reading all. Take care, FB. Xx.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 15 <strong>

For the second time in a row Hound came back online in his lover's arms and smiled. He'd had to beg the medics to release Trailbreaker into his care for their recharge period, and the black mech was still spending most of his cycle in the med-bay getting various bits and pieces fixed, but at least they were getting some time together, a good deal more than they had managed while they were in Antihex.

"I love you," he whispered as he realised that Trailbreaker was starting to come back online.

"Love you too," Trailbreaker responded, and he gave the smaller mech a light squeeze. His systems were booting up sluggishly, he was still getting used to the slightly altered way of seeing that the visor caused, but he didn't need to be fully online to appreciate how wonderful it was to be with Hound.

They lay together for a while longer, and shared a few tender kisses before Hound pulled away reluctantly and went to get their energon. Part of the deal he had with the medics was that he had to keep his lover well-fuelled, and his systems relaxed. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, the hardest part was that they weren't allowed to interface until Trailbreaker's new parts had completely assimilated, but Hound hoped that embargo would be lifted soon, possibly at the end of that cycle, and then their relationship could return to normal.

_Is that enough? _Hound asked himself as he settled back down on the berth and handed Trailbreaker his energon. _I came so close to losing him,_ the thought still chilled his fuel-lines. _He could have died and never known how much I love him._

"What are you thinking lover?" Trailbreaker asked, and Hound realised that he was being unusually quiet. He couldn't tell the black mech exactly what he was thinking, it was far to morbid, but there was something he could share, a question that he'd been trying to work out how to ask for a while.

Hound snuggled down into his lover's frame slightly, enjoying the warmth and the comfort he found there. "Would you bond with me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Trailbreaker answered without a moment of hesitation. "Do you mean now?"

"Well, I thought we might take a cycle or two to get a few things ready," Hound explained with an amused light in his optics. His spark sang at the ease with which Trailbreaker had made his decision. He'd always been told that making the choice to bond was difficult, and could take vorns, but they had resolved it in less than a breem. "Not to mention the medics rather protective attitude towards you, but soon."

"I was hoping that was what you meant," Trailbreaker said with a contented smile. He kissed the green mech, and his engine revved quietly.

"Easy there 'Breaker," Hound reminded him. "The medics will never trust me again if I don't look after you properly. Come on, we'd better get moving before we end up in trouble."

"This is the worst part of my cycle," Trailbreaker grumbled. "Not only do I have to get out of our nice, warm berth, but I'm scared that I'll dislocate your shoulder struts while you're helping me."

"You're not that heavy 'Beaker," Hound assured his lover.

"Lighter armour would be nice though."

"Talk to Wheeljack when he gets back if it bothers you so much," Hound advised, and with one final heave he managed to get him up-right. No easy task when most of Trailbreaker's right leg was still missing.

The walk down to the med-bay was tricky too. Trailbreaker had been issued with a pair of props, but neither he nor Hound truly trusted them; it was too easy to slip on the metal floor. Eventually though they made it, with nothing more serious than a few wobbles.

The next half of the cycle passed tediously slowly. Trailbreaker was incredibly grateful to the medics who had first saved his life, and then worked so hard to get him fully functional, but in some ways that made it worse, because he couldn't snap at them were their poking and tweaking annoyed him.

Just as Trailbreaker was beginning to think that he might have to scream to let out his frustration the med-bay door opened, and he smiled in relief as Jazz wondered in. The last time he had seen Jazz the mech had been a mess, obviously still healing from the injuries he had sustained in their shuttle crash, racked with guilt, and beyond exhausted. The mech swaggering across the med-bay was barely recognisable.

"Jazz," Trailbreaker said fondly. "Primus, but it's good to see you." He extended his arms and was rather surprised when Jazz almost dived at him. He lifted the small black and white easily onto his lap and hugged him. Jazz hadn't let Trailbreaker hold him in such a way since before his friend had become his commander, the black mech supposed that it was Jazz's idea of professional distance, but he was pleased to see that Jazz had abandoned the notion in favour of genuine affection.

"How are you?" Jazz asked earnestly.

"Much better than I was," Trailbreaker smiled, "and so are you by the look of you." Jazz was actually shiny, the only mech in their unit that had managed to keep his paint-job in such good condition was Sunstreaker.

"Praxus is still a peaceful city," Jazz explained, "they're not used to seeing mechs scratched up and dented, I felt a little out of place."

"You had a good time though?"

"Wonderful," Jazz said with a grin. "I walked in the gardens, recharged properly, and remembered how it felt not to have the weight of the world on my shoulders. It's been a long time since I felt this good."

"Glad to hear it," Trailbreaker said genuinely. He realised that this was the best chance he was going to get to share his own news, and traded a smile with Hound.

Jazz picked up on the silent exchange instantly, and gave Trailbreaker his full attention. He didn't say anything, but they had been friends for so long that he didn't have to.

"Hound has asked me to bond with him," Trailbreaker said cautiously, and much to his relief Jazz's smile grew wider, although Trailbreaker wasn't sure how that was possible.

"When?" Jazz asked curiously.

"As soon as possible," Hound answered, and he was rather surprised when Jazz jumped out of Trailbreaker's lap and hugged him tightly. "The only thing that we did have to wait for was the okay from the medics, and we got that just before you walked in."

"Then we don't have much time," Jazz grinned before he opened his comm-link. _"Wheeljack and Sideswipe report to the med-bay. Sunstreaker, my quarters,"_ he ordered.

"What are you up to Jazz?" Trailbreaker asked suspiciously.

"I don't follow many traditions 'Breaker, but this is one of them. I am your oldest friend, which means that Hound comes with me, Wheeljack has known Hound the longest so you are his responsibility, and I really think we should include the twins."

"Fair enough," Trailbreaker agreed, although he couldn't quite hide his surprise at Jazz's enthusiasm, or the fact that Jazz put such importance on a tradition that most 'bots thought of as out-dated. "Take care of him."

Jazz laughed, took Hound by the arm and led him out. They passed a rather bemused looking Wheeljack and Sideswipe in the corridor. Hound looked on curiously as Jazz pressed something small into Wheeljack's hand, but no one spoke.

Sunstreaker was leaning lazily against the nearest wall when Jazz and Hound arrived at the black and white's quarters. "What's going on?" he asked. "No one is telling me anything, Sideswipe is thrilled about something, but he said to ask 'Breaker, who told me to ask Hound. So out with it."

"I've asked 'Breaker to become my bond-mate," Hound explained.

"Wonderful," the golden twin said. "I'm happy for you both, but what does that have to do with me?"

"I thought you might like to help Hound get ready," Jazz said with a winning smile, and he threw a small object to Sunstreaker who caught it easily.

"Where in the world did you get this?" the warrior asked, and Hound realised for the first time that the thing was a canister of polish.

"Praxus," Jazz answered. "Do you like the results?" He spun round quickly so that Sunstreaker could get a good look at his gleaming finish.

"I think it would look better on me," Sunstreaker said dryly.

"Help me get Hound looking pretty and you can keep what's left."

"Deal," Sunstreaker grinned.

"I think it might take more than that stuff," Hound muttered as Jazz practically mech-handled him into his quarters.

"This _stuff_," Sunstreaker said irritably, and with an emphatic shake of the can, "is the best polish available on Cybertron. It's imported, horrendously expensive, and you will be grateful, yes?"

"Yes Sunstreaker," Hound said dutifully, and Jazz hid a smile.

"Good. Where's the cleanser?"

"Is that really necessary?" Hound asked. "I was in the wash-racks last night, and I haven't done anything since."

Sunstreaker shot him a withering look, and Hound wisely decided to just go with the flow. He stood in the middle of Jazz's room and meekly let the other two mech wash him down, dry him and apply the polish. It seemed to take forever, but he didn't dare complain. Sunstreaker was completely absorbed in his task, and Jazz seemed distracted for some time, but when he met Hound's optics he smiled broadly.

"There," Sunstreaker said eventually. "If 'Breaker doesn't jump you tonight he needs his optics..." he had been going to say testing, but as he spoke he remembered the Trailbreaker's optics had been damaged in the shuttle crash, and he gave Hound a wary look.

"It's alright Sunny," Hound assured him. "'Breaker doesn't want you fuss over him, and for the record 'Breaker doesn't usually need much encouragement to _jump_ me."

"He'll get a good impression through the visor," Jazz assured both mechs. He took Hound by the shoulders and turned him to face a reflective panel. "We did a good job, didn't we?" he asked softly.

Hound had never been a vain mech, he hadn't been one for polish even before the war, but his opinion changed as he looked at himself. "Wow," he murmured. "Thank you." He turned to face Jazz and took his hands. "Thank you so much. I was actually nervous about telling you, but you've been amazing."

"I'm not quite done yet," Jazz said with a smile. "'Jack and I have been on the comms, we've called in a few favours, and we have one last surprise for you. Come on, one quick stop and we'll deliver you to your soon-to-be bond-mate."

Hound felt a thrill of excitement run through his systems at those words. He followed Jazz out, waited patiently with Sunstreaker while Jazz slipped into Wheeljack's room for a moment then followed again, exchanging curious glances with Sunstreaker, who seemed to be just as in the dark as he was.

Jazz eventually opened one last door and led them into a rather grand dinning room, which had a table laid out for six, and a service drone waiting in the corner. "Ultra Magnus sends his congratulations and best wishes," he said quickly.

"I never thought I'd have anyone so important sending his compliments when I announced I was going to bond," Hound said in surprise. He would have been content with a quiet night with his lover, but Jazz seemed determined to make a real occasion out of their announcement. "And I can't believe you arranged all this for 'Breaker and me."

"It's my pleasure," Jazz told him. His head tilted slightly telling Hound that he was listening to the comm before he smiled, and stepped back.

The door opened and Trailbreaker walked in. His leg was completely repaired, although he did still have a prop just to help take the weight, his armour gleamed, and the smile that lit his face told Hound all that he needed to know.

"You look wonderful," Hound said quietly.

"'Jack and Sides have been busy," Trailbreaker told him as he pulled the green mech into a tender embrace. "Jazz didn't give you too much of a hard time, did he? He used to say that he would."

"No, not at all."

"I didn't need to," Jazz put in. "If I hadn't been absolutely sure that Hound was the right mech for you I would have transferred him ages ago."

Hound chose to treat the comment as a joke and chuckled, but Trailbreaker knew that Jazz was being completely serious. If things hadn't worked out so well Jazz would have been left with not choice.

They sat down and enjoyed their evening energon, remembering how wonderful it was to take time for such simple pleasures. They told jokes and laughed, especially after Wheeljack shared out the high-grade, which was a treat few of them had savoured since their arrival at Nova Cronum.

"So," Trailbreaker said to Hound as the conversation subsided, "where would you like to go?"

"Go?" Hound asked. He was a little confused.

"Bonds take time to settle," Jazz put in. "I've given you an 'Breaker ten cycles off."

"The medics told me as I left the med-bay," Trailbreaker added quickly.

"Okay," Hound nodded. "Sounds great, but you know the planet better than I do. Just take me somewhere nice."

"What about that place not far from Iacon?" Jazz asked. "The one that was all pillars and arches. What was it called?"

"Albiacon," Trailbreaker remembered. "It's beautiful there, you'll love it."

"And what are we going to be up to while Hound and 'Breaker are off having fun?" Sunstreaker asked.

"There's still a lot of work to be done on Steelhaven," Jazz reminded the golden twin, "and once that's done I'll ask the Magnus what missions he's got for a four mech team. We can still be useful."

"Without a pilot?" Trailbreaker asked.

"Jazz can fly. We've seen him," Sideswipe put in.

"You've never seen him land," Trailbreaker reminded him.

"I'll take lessons," Jazz told the black mech with a pointed look.

"Is there something we should know about?" Wheeljack asked apprehensively.

Jazz rubbed his face with his hand. "The only time I ever tried to land Steelhaven, or Haven as she was then, I crashed her," he confessed, "which wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't stolen her first."

"What?" came the collective cry from everyone except Trailbreaker. The look the black mech gave his oldest friend seemed torn between encouragement and concern.

"I was going through a rough time, and before anyone asks, no, I don't want to talk about it, but believe me when I tell you that those cycles were probably the worst of my life."

Realisation dawned in Wheeljack's optics. He knew that Jazz could only be talking about Symphony's death. "It's alright Jazz," he said softly.

"But..." Sideswipe protested.

Jazz gave Wheeljack a sad smile for his attempt at sparing him, then turned his attention to the red twin. "I'll tell you what happened Sides, just not the why of it. I wanted to go somewhere and 'Breaker wouldn't take me, as I said I was a mess and not really thinking straight. So I waited for him to go to recharge, locked him in his cabin, managed to get Haven in the air and flew her, but when it came to landing, well, it didn't go well. In my defence it wasn't a serious crash, and we both walked away from it."

"As I recall you ran," Trailbreaker put in, and Jazz nodded. "Took me the better part of a cycle to catch you again."

"Primus," Hound whispered. "What did you do to him?"

"I took him to Praxus, and helped him get over the problem that had caused the whole sorry mess," Trailbreaker answered. "When I was sure that he was recovering I made him pay for the damages."

"Which I would have done anyway," Jazz pointed out. "Anyway, let's focus on the now shall we. That's why we're here after all. Gentlemechs, would you join me in a toast. To Hound and Trailbreaker, we wish them every happiness."

"Every happiness," Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Wheeljack repeated.

Trailbreaker raised his energon to Jazz. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "for everything."

"It's been my pleasure," Jazz said amiably. "I think we'd better call it a night though. We don't want Hound and 'Breaker getting worn out before they've even started, do we?"

"Makes no difference to me," Sunstreaker mumbled, and Jazz gave him a reproachful look.

"Just 'cause you're not getting any," Sideswipe chuckled.

"Neither are you," his twin shot back.

"That's enough," Jazz said firmly. "Sunny, I faithfully promise that when you and, or Sideswipe decide to bond I'll make just as much fuss of you, just don't expect me to understand how that could work," he finished with a sly smile, and everyone laughed at Sunstreaker's indignant look, before bidding each other good-night.

* * *

><p>Early the following cycle Trailbreaker took the helm of a small, borrowed shuttle and smiled at his companion. He would have preferred to take Steelhaven, but Jazz hadn't exaggerated when he said that she still needed a lot of repairing, so he told himself that it would be good enough, and set the heading.<p>

Some time later he spotted the Autobot capital of Iacon on the skyline, and pointed it out to Hound. "I'll take you there soon," he assured his lover.

"I'll look forward to it," Hound grinned, "but right now I'll settle for wide open spaces, and you for a few cycles. I've spent all my life in cities."

"Fair enough," Trailbreaker agreed, although he couldn't help feeling a little sorry for his lover; both Nova Cronum and Perihex were rather dull cities in his opinion, but others like Crystal City and Iacon were truly impressive. He banked the shuttle around. It wasn't far to where they were going, and he could barely wait to get there. A few breems later he landed easily, and took Hound by the hand to lead him outside.

"Wow," Hound murmured appreciatively as the outer-hatch opened and a landscape of towering pillars came into view. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Not many have," Trailbreaker informed him. "At least not from this angle, most 'bots just fly right over it, too busy getting to Iacon or Praxus to stop and look around. It's sad really."

For a while they just walked around, Hound exclaimed at the views and Trailbreaker became more and more pleased with himself. It was wonderful to see his lover enjoying himself and relaxed, but eventually a dull ache in his recently repaired leg told him that they would have to head back to the shuttle in a while, in truth he was looking forward to that more than anything, but he wanted to do something else first.

He shot Hound a grin, and dropped into his alt-mode. It felt like an age since he had transformed, and although Trailbreaker wasn't much of a lover of speed, he did enjoy just driving. Hound followed him easily as he led them a twisting, meandering route that eventually led them back to the shuttle.

Although all of his unit referred to Nova Cronum as home, Trailbreaker still felt more comfortable when he was travelling. Part of him wished that he could take Hound somewhere more luxurious, but at the same time it felt right to be in what Jazz would have called the aft-end of nowhere, and Hound seemed more than happy with the choice.

The black mech watched lazily as Hound got their energon, and couldn't believe just how in love he was. Hound had given him a whole new lease of life. He couldn't remember ever being so happy, so content. His lover settled into his embrace, and handed him his fuel. "I love you," he whispered.

Hound gave him a shy smile. "Love you too 'Breaker," he replied. "I can't actually believe we've come this far."

"Me neither," Trailbreaker confessed. He suddenly felt nervous. Bonding was permanent, a commitment that lasted a life time, and so far it had seemed like such an easy decision to make, but he wondered if maybe they were making it too easy. _No,_ he told himself firmly, _it feels simple because it's right._

They drank their energon slowly, exchanging smiles but not saying anything. They could sense each other's nervousness, and it echoed with their own, but eventually Hound seemed to gather his confidence, finished his fuel, and set down the container. He stood up, and extended his hand. "Shall we?"

Trailbreaker's spark raced. He had to concentrate to keep his hands from shaking as Hound led him into the rear cabin. He wasn't afraid, but he was far too aware that what they were about to do was life changing.

Hound took both of his hands in his. "I swear by Primus and my faith in the Matrix to love you for the rest of my life," he said sincerely, "to share your fears, and hopes, and to keep you safe."

Trailbreaker repeated the words. It was traditional for 'bots to exchange promises before they bonded. The words varied depending on what was important to those involved, but as far as he was concerned Hound had chosen theirs perfectly.

They lay down and shared a long, lingering kiss. As they broke apart Trailbreaker opened the panel that protected his spark. Hound had seen his lovers spark once before, but that had been during Trailbreaker's recent stay in the mad-bay, and a dozen or so other mechs had also been present. This time the sight of the small blue orb was only for him.

Hound just stared for a moment, it was a beautiful thing, a perfect display of the trust that Trailbreaker had in him. He triggered the mechanism that opened his own chest-panel. His spark felt as if it was trying to escape his chest anyway. He wasn't surprised to see the wild flashing of his spark reflected in Trailbreaker's visor, but it was an odd experience.

Trailbreaker pulled his lover closer, held him for a moment, and then gently pressed his spark to Hound's. "Primus," he whispered. It was so strange, he was aware of his body, but only vaguely, everything that mattered was within two blue spheres. Images and flashes of Hound's life seemed to rush past him at light-speed, which was bizarre as he also knew that he wasn't moving.

Part of Hound's spark seemed to draw him in, and Trailbreaker realised that it was the part that he needed to feel, where all of Hound's thoughts, emotions and memories of him were stored. It was so bright that he knew his optics couldn't stand to look at it, but _seeing_ it through his own spark struck him as stunningly beautiful.

There was so much love, more than Trailbreaker had believed possible. They were warm, safe, and completely, gloriously complete. The feeling of being whole overwhelmed them, and somewhere, neither mech knew where one ended and the other began anymore, their control broke.

Emotions flared, vents heaved, and an overload that neither of them were really expecting crashed over them.

Trailbreaker couldn't remember turning his visor off, so he was quite surprised when it re-booted and presented him with the sight of his bond-mate curled tightly against him. The blue light of their sparks lit their faces from below. In his opinion it made Hound look even more handsome.

Hound stirred, and looked up at him. Pure amazement shone in his optics, and filtered through their newly formed bond. "Wow," the whispered, almost in unison. "I can actually feel you."

"I could tell that you were admiring me before I looked up," Hound sounded completely awestruck. He kissed his lover, and desire flared within the bond. For the first time Hound understood why newly bonded 'bots were given so much time off from their duties. It was going to be a while before he could stand to do anything other than explore their connection. "Love you," he murmured. Trailbreaker's response pulsed through, and almost engulfed him. "Primus."

"No," Trailbreaker smiled. "Just me."

They kissed again, and lost themselves in the sensations. It was a long time before they left the berth again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part 16**

"Crystal City dead ahead," Jazz called back to the rest of his unit, "and Seekers incoming, 'Jack get on the canon. Sunny, Sides, get ready," Jazz cut himself off abruptly. Hound would have been next on his list, but the green mech was still in Albiacon with Trailbreaker, and would be for a few cycles yet.

Jazz had foolishly hoped that Hound and Trailbreaker would return to Nova Cronum before something came up, but that dream had gone up in smoke when a distress call had come in from Crystal City. It was under attack and evacuation teams were desperately needed. Steelhaven wasn't the only shuttle sent to help, but she definitely had the most nervous pilot.

_Maybe I should have taken a few more lessons,_ Jazz thought in one of the brief moments when he wasn't frantically dodging laser fire, and everything else that seemed to fill the sky.

"The Guardian's down, reports are saying that a massive mech is tearing holes in the city," he continued, "Wheeljack, I'm picking up twenty or so survivors over to our left, I need the sky clear before I get to them, Sides get your aft airborne, Sunstreaker cover him."

He swung the shuttle round hard, banking to give himself a clear run at a landing, and the others time to do their jobs. _Primus, but I miss 'Breaker. What made me think I could fly this thing?_

"This is as good as it gets," Wheeljack informed him, "if you're going down, go now!"

Jazz sent up a quick prayer to Primus and forced the shuttle into a steep dive.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Wheeljack all but screamed, "level this thing out or they won't be able to tell us from the rest of the mess down there."

Jazz just had time to register an obstruction and swerved violently.

"What the frag was that?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"One of the towers," Jazz answered through gritted dental plates, "that thing just threw it at us."

"By Primus," Sunstreaker swore as he leant forward to peer outside. "It's hideous."

Jazz suppressed an almost hysterical laugh. Never mind that the mech was half the height of the city or that it had already incapacitated a Guardian; it would have to be the violent green and purple paint-job that Sunstreaker saw first. "Is Sideswipe still with us?" he asked as he realised what his manoeuvres might have caused.

"He's staying above us," Sunstreaker reported. "Probably the safest place for him."

"Probably safer than in here," Wheeljack added.

Jazz stopped listening as Wheeljack and Sunstreaker continued to trade moans about his flying, they weren't being cruel, it was just a way of lightening their moods and Jazz was happy for them to do so, so long as their attention remained on their jobs. It helped fill the gaping hole left by their two missing friends.

"Cut the chatter," he ordered after a breem or so. "I'm gonna try landing this thing."

"I'm not sure I like you using the word try," Sunstreaker snarled.

"You wanna have a go Sunny?" Jazz snapped back.

"Did you get me mixed up with Sideswipe?" the golden twin retorted. "You know I'm not that stupid."

Jazz busied himself at the controls so that he wouldn't have to answer. _A__pparently you're both smarter than I am, _he thought. "Here goes," he warned his friends.

A few bounces, screeches and sparks later the craft stopped abruptly.

"Come back 'Breaker, all is forgiven," Sunstreaker muttered.

"Just get them aboard," Jazz barked.

"On it," Wheeljack called back.

Jazz tuned out the shouting and bustle as the small group of survivors swarmed into the hold. He was beyond tired, beyond frightened. Lives were at stake, lives of strangers, lives of friends, all of them dependent on his call, and he was far too aware that one mistake could get them all killed.

"Good to go," Wheeljack signalled.

Jazz focused on the controls, his moment of respite and reflection was over.

"We're out!" Jazz called triumphantly several breems later. "Get your aft in here Sideswipe." the relief in his voice was clear to everyone who could hear him.

"I knew you could do it," Wheeljack said as he rested a hand on his friends shoulder.

"Auto-pilot engaged," Jazz whispered, he sat back in his chair and tried to ease the tension from his frame. "I never want to do that again."

"It'll get easier," Wheeljack assured him.

"This was supposed to be easy," Jazz snapped back. Compared to most of their missions this one should have been a joy-ride, but Jazz found that he had a new respect for pilots.

Whatever Wheeljack was going to say next was cut off abruptly by what could only be described as a 'Whoop' of joy from Sideswipe. Sunstreaker shoved himself out of his seat and went to investigate. Curiosity won over Jazz's exhaustion, he engaged the craft's auto-pilot and followed the golden warrior.

Behind his visor his optics widened in surprise as he found himself seeing the last thing he had expected. Apparently the red twin had launched himself at a smaller mech and was currently doing his best to squeeze the life out of the newcomer, but the strange thing was that the unknown mech seemed to be enjoying himself, if the fierce kiss that they exchanged was any indication.

Jazz smothered the grin that would have ruined his no-nonsense-in-the-field attitude. "Report," he ordered, and he couldn't help but feel slightly smug as the two mechs jerked apart.

"It's Mirage," Sideswipe said as if that should explain everything.

"Is that supposed to make sense?" Wheeljack asked. The mystified expression in his optics only intensified as Sunstreaker joined his twin, and embraced the lithe blue and white mech.

"He's known the twins a long time from what I could gather," Jazz explained. "I met him briefly, in Perihex, just before everything went to the Pit. He was a patron of Sunstreaker's work, and a little more than friends with Sideswipe."

"Is that what he told you?" Mirage asked dryly.

"I think his words were something along the lines of 'good for reliable information, obtaining the best high-grade, and great interfacing'." Jazz replied.

Wheeljack stifled a laugh as Mirage raised an elegant optic ridge and glared at Sideswipe.

"I was young and full of myself back then," the red warrior said quickly, and the fact that he at least had the grace to look mortified seemed to mollify Mirage a little.

"Whereas now you're full of sage wisdom," Sunstreaker smirked.

The twins started bickering as only they could, but Mirage paid them no attention; he was watching Jazz. "You said that we'd met," he said curiously as he moved away from the rapidly escalation argument and extended a hand.

"Briefly," Jazz reminded him, "at Sunstreaker's last gallery showing. The name's Jazz."

"Jazz," Mirage repeated, then recognition brightened his optics. "Primus, I remember. You look good."

Jazz glanced at his paint-job, it still shone with the high quality polish that he had acquired in Praxus, but those cycles already seemed like vorns ago. "Don't let the finish fool you Mirage, I've changed a lot since Perihex."

"So I see," Mirage said, he was quite taken aback by the curt, businesslike attitude that Jazz had picked up since they had last met. "For what it's worth I'm sorry," he added sympathetically.

"You can keep your pity Mirage," Jazz snapped. "I don't need it, if you'll excuse me I'm needed at the helm. We're almost home."

Mirage watched him leave sadly. "He was a delight to be with once," he murmured, he seemed to be talking to himself, but his words were just loud enough for Wheeljack to hear.

"That mech is still in there somewhere," Wheeljack informed him coldly. "But he's been buried deep by everything he's been through since."

"I never meant any offence," Mirage said quickly. "It just saddens me that so many wonderful things, including my own home, have been destroyed by this senseless war."

Wheeljack found himself nodding in agreement. "Jazz is a little edgy at the moment," he said in a low whisper. "He's our commander, and our pilot has been on leave since our last mission. Jazz is standing in, he's doing his best, but the fact that he isn't the best pilot on the planet isn't helping any."

Mirage suddenly looked horribly nervous. "How bad is he?"

"He's getting the hang of it," Wheeljack said, suddenly cheerful. "His landings are a a little rough though, you might want to strap yourself in," his last few words were said loudly enough for everyone in the cabin to hear and there was a sudden flurry of activity, much to Wheeljack's amusement.

In the moment of chaos Mirage grabbed Sideswipe's arm. "Do you trust them?" he asked desperately.

"Absolutely," the red warrior assured him.

"A lot's changed since Perihex then," Mirage observed, the last time they had met Sideswipe had seemed suspicious of everyone.

"Everything," Sideswipe agreed. "But now isn't the time time to get into that. Wheeljack doesn't exaggerate."

Mirage found himself a seat, and for the first time since the attack on his home had begun he had time to think. His spark ached for his losses; his creators, his friends and his extravagant, safe lifestyle were all gone, but then there was Sideswipe. He had cared deeply for the red twin, more than he had ever admitted, and seeing him alive, and seemingly happy, was something that he had thought he would never see again.

The shuttle landed with a jolt a few breems later, and by that time Mirage had made a decision. He had always believed in fate, that Primus had a plan for all of them, and that everything happened for a reason. His home was gone, but he had been rescued by a mech he had thought was dead, and the significance of that was not lost on him.

There was a rush for the exit as the Crystal City 'bots disembarked, but Mirage didn't join them. He held back and waited for Sideswipe, but he caught a glimpse of the city he had landed in through the throng, he knew where he was, and that Nova Cronum was the base that the Special Ops units used.

"Something I can do for you Mirage?" Jazz asked, as he came out of the helm cabin again with Wheeljack close behind him. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe also joined them, but they stayed quiet, and out of the way.

"I want to help you," Mirage asked, he felt a little foolish at using such simple words, and he knew that that he didn't really have much of an idea of what he was getting himself into, but he felt like he was doing the right thing.

"Mirage," Jazz said patiently, "I run one of the best Black Ops teams in this city, we do the work that no one else wants to dirty their hands with. It' tough, it's dangerous, and I am not about to throw you back into the pit after I just yanked you out of it. You want to help, then go to Iacon, sign up and be a soldier. You'll be safe there, and comfortable."

"For how long?" Mirage shot back. "I thought I was _safe_ in Crystal City, but look what happened there not half a cycle ago."

"Longer than you will be here," Jazz told him. The black and white was still infuriatingly calm, but Mirage had never felt so angry. He wasn't used to being told that he couldn't do something, and more importantly he was being told it by a mech whose lifestyle had once been close to as decadent and easy as his own.

Without really thinking about it Mirage activated a device that rendered him all but invisible, it had been a gift from his creators, an attempt at keeping him safe, until that moment he'd only ever used it for his own entertainment, but he understood that it could also be used in war, and not just for defence.

He struck out hard, wrapped a thick cable around the twins before they really understood what was happening, with them incapacitated he lunged at Wheeljack, knocked him backwards towards the helm and locked the door so that the mech couldn't get back in, then turned his attention to Jazz, who to his surprise was looking straight at him.

"Nice trick, Mirage," Jazz said, looking rather amused. "But I'm afraid it won't work on me."

_He's bluffing,_ Mirage thought. He moved away silently, there was no way Jazz could hear him, especially with the storm that the twins were cursing up as they struggled to get free, but Jazz tracked his movement and tapped his visor.

"This isn't just for the look," he chuckled. "You can't hide from me."

Mirage deactivated the device, unlocked the door and went to help the twins untangle themselves.

"I am impressed though," Jazz admitted. "We've got a few cycles before I want to get back to work again, and I wanted to do a few training simulations to see how Hound and 'Breaker are coping with their bond, make it through those and we'll talk, okay?"

Mirage nodded, and followed the others out of the shuttle. Sideswipe shot him a grin and appeared pleased that he was at least being given a chance to join them, Sunstreaker did not, but Mirage hoped that he could win him over. Jazz clapped him on the shoulder as they crossed the landing bay into the city, grinned and said, "Welcome to Nova Cronum."


	17. Chapter 17

A.N: Sorry about the wait for this chapter, last week just flew by, but today is my birthday so I'm spending a few decadent hours writing before I go out for dinner. So glad everyone's still enjoying this. Take care, FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 17 <strong>

Mirage had visited Nova Cronum before, but not often. He disliked it's utilitarian nature, there was simply nothing beautiful in the whole city, and after a life surrounding himself with wonderful things his new home seemed worse than he had ever thought the Pit would be.

The only saving grace in his current situation was the mechs he was stationed with. The six of them were the most unusual group of friends he had ever encountered, and they were a fascinating study for a mech whose favourite pass-time was watching group dynamics.

The twins were close to unique simply by the way that they had been sparked, but there was more to them than that. Mirage had known them for vorns, but it seemed to him that among mechs they trusted they had really come alive.

Sunstreaker, he knew, would always be the quieter of the two. He was still the proud, self-possessed mech, with an arrogance that Mirage had admired since their introduction, but he had never seemed happier.

Sideswipe, meanwhile, had become much more relaxed, he laughed, he joked and even let his brother out of his sight occasionally.

Mirage was still studying the others, he hadn't had much time and they were complexed, but he was enjoying the challenge.

Hound and Trailbreaker were the easier pair to understand. They fitted together, and he wasn't surprised to find out that they had recently bonded, although the fact that they had only been together for a little over a vorn stunned him. Both were happy and confident, but Mirage was fairly sure that they hadn't always been so at ease. They still slipped back into old habits once in a while. Hound would stand awkwardly, or Trailbreaker would take up an unobtrusive position, in fact it was quite easy to forget he was there during the times when he had nothing to say, no easy task for a mech his size.

Wheeljack and Jazz were harder to read, partly because both of them kept portions of their faces hidden, but the main obstruction to Mirage's observations was their incredibly guarded natures. Sometimes Mirage even wondered if they communicated in code, they seemed to read each other so well, but no one else knew how.

Mirage had even asked the twins if the two mechs were lovers, but although Sunstreaker had dismissed the idea immediately and Sideswipe had laughed, Mirage remained curious. There was something about them, a closeness that the rest of the unit couldn't rival, a tenderness in the way they touched, an attentiveness when they listened to each other. Granted they all communicated well, and seemed like a tactile bunch that thought nothing of slinging an arm across someone else's shoulders, but even as he watched them laughing at one of Sideswipe's jokes he saw Jazz lean against Wheeljack and wondered.

The pair seemed a good match in his opinion; Wheeljack seemed solid, dependable, and logical, a good balance for Jazz's more impulsive, slightly roguish nature, but not in an overbearing way. Mirage certainly couldn't fault Wheeljack's taste; Jazz was an attractive mech even with the thick visor that hid his optics, and the rather harsh attitude that Mirage had seen when the unit had saved him, but he was relieved to discover that there was a lighter side to the mech, which shone through when he wasn't working.

He watched with half an optic as the group slowly drifted apart at the end of his training session. The twins were the first to leave; both headed towards a room that someone had earlier said was set aside for sparring. Next Wheeljack excused himself, saying that he was needed in the labs, and Jazz swaggered off a few moments later.

Mirage had thought that he was being discreet in his observations, but when he turned away from the rack of practice weapons he found Trailbreaker planted firmly between him and the door. "Not another one," the black mech said with an air of amusement.

"Another what?" Mirage asked.

"Have you any idea how many 'bots I've seen watching Jazz like that over the vorns?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"Hundreds," Trailbreaker informed him, "possibly thousands by now. I probably did the same thing when I first met him."

"You and he were..." at this revelation he was surprised, but it also explained a lot. It seemed that Jazz only had to say the big mech's name, and he would do whatever needed doing.

"Briefly," the big mech smirked. "One night about a life time ago, before we became friends."

"He confides in you?" Mirage pushed.

"When he needs to, lately he's been going to Wheeljack more." He didn't sound as if he resented their relationship.

"So they are lovers." Mirage knew that the statement was a gamble, that the big mech might just laugh at him, but not knowing was infuriating him.

"They have... an arrangement," Trailbreaker said diplomatically, "Wheeljack's smitten and if Jazz was any other mech I'd say he was too, but Jazz's history is... complicated, and I doubt he'd thank me for bringing it up. He does care though, apparently that's enough for 'Jack."

* * *

><p>Still feeling rather pleased with himself for being one step ahead of the twins, Mirage stepped lightly into one of the sparing rooms. He had intended to gloat a little, maybe even tease them, but all thoughts of that nature were driven from his processor the moment he set optics on the twins.<p>

The brothers were the only mechs in the room, but even with his habit of watching everyone he doubted he would have noticed anyone else if they had been there.

For a moment he was taken right back to the time he had first seen the two magnificent, barely civilised mechs. He was in the stalls of Vos' Great Arena again, and the pair were giving a demonstration of gladiatorial combat. They weren't trying to harm each other, as far as Mirage knew their own fights had never gone beyond words, but Mirage still considered himself privileged to have seen it.

_The crimson and golden mechs fought as one, in perfect unison. Any landed shots were the lightest of taps instead of killing blows. Each attack and counter was so graceful, so exact, that Mirage was sure that the fight must have been rehearsed a thousand times. He'd been even more impressed later when he had found out that the first thing they had known about the fight was when it was announced to the crowd, it had only been done because the mechs they should have been fighting were running late. It was the only time they ever stood against each other in the ring._

"You're looking a little nostalgic there 'Raj." It was Sideswipe who brought him back to the present, and Mirage glared at him for that as much as for the use of the nick-name. When they had last met in Perihex neither twin would have dreamed of calling him anything other than his full designation.

"I was thinking of when we first met," Mirage admitted, "do you remember that?"

"Of course I do," Sideswipe grinned. "It isn't every cycle that ends with a noble mech in my berth, although it wasn't the only time."

"Was I the only noble to make it there?" Mirage teased, and allowed himself a triumphant smiled when Sideswipe nodded.

Sunstreaker growled quietly, as if to remind them that he was there, and Mirage mentally chastised himself for jumping slightly.

"Don't mind Sunny," Sideswipe said lazily, "he's just jealous because he never managed to join us."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sunstreaker hissed, although Mirage couldn't help noticing that the golden mech didn't look at either of them when he spoke.

Mirage felt a small thrill run through his circuits. Both twins were visually pleasing, and while Mirage had never been able to define the differences between them that left Sideswipe in his brother's shadow, he was very aware that they were there. Sideswipe was handsome enough to stop most 'bots in their tracks, but Sunstreaker was a whole other level of beautiful.

"Really," Mirage said as casually as he possibly could. He was all too aware that even that one word was more than he should say. Back in Vos, and later in Perihex, Sunstreaker had never seemed to show any interest in anyone except a brute named Stormrider, a mech that Mirage wished he had never met, and prayed never to see again.

Sunstreaker twirled a practice blade in his long fingers, the simple act gave him a deadly air, and Mirage's spark raced. The golden twin seemed to sense his arousal and stepped slightly closer. "Care for some training?" he asked nonchalantly. "I'll go easy on you."

Mirage found that he couldn't form words, it wasn't fear or desire that silenced him, but an intoxicating mix of the two. Instead he gave Sunstreaker a nod that he hoped would pass for curt, and took the weapon.

Mirage didn't know much about fighting with laser-knives, he had seen displays – from a safe distance of course, even handled one or two, but never used one against another mech.

Sunstreaker looked at him critically, it barely took an astro-second, but left him feeling as if he had been measured well enough for a whole new set of plating.

"Loosen your grip and lower your stance," the golden twin instructed, "standing tall is all very well but it effects your balance, you need a firm footing when you fight like this."

Mirage did as he was instructed, and mirrored Sunstreaker as the warrior walked him through a few basic shots.

"That's good," Sunstreaker said after a few breems. Mirage wasn't sure if he saw a smile flicker across Sunstreaker's face-plates before he gave a brief nod.

Sideswipe stepped up again. "As you may remember I'm a little less brutal than Sunny," he said with an impish smile.

Mirage found himself feeling rather relieved.

For a few breems they traded blows, and although Sideswipe insisted he was going easy Mirage's vents were heaving by the time Sunstreaker called a halt.

"I'm not sure if I'm built for this," Mirage admitted.

"You think Jazz or Wheeljack were?" Sunstreaker asked, "or half the other 'bots here? Sides and I had a head start thanks to the gladiator rings, but that was fighting for show, this is life and death, and I'd like it if you lived a little longer."

Mirage was surprised and flattered by he admission, but confused by the fact that Sunstreaker turned around and walked out of the room as soon as he'd finished speaking.

"Sunny's still healing," Sideswipe said softly, the tone sounded strange coming from him. Mirage was used to him being cocky, even callus, but never gentle.

"Stormrider?" Mirage asked cautiously.

"It wasn't so much that Storm brought out the worst in him, but that Sunny enjoyed it. He liked being free of morals, the hedonistic life they led suited them both. Sunny misses it, although he'll never say so."

"Should I ask what happened?"

"Storm joined the 'Cons, which wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't tried to kill me. The 'Cons didn't want me; I didn't fit their profile."

"I always knew that there was a good mech in there somewhere," Mirage consoled him. He hoped that it would relieve some of the melancholy mood that had drifted in.

Sideswipe brushed his fingers across Mirage's cheek. "You always could make me feel better. I missed you."

The admission stunned Mirage. The Sideswipe he had known before would never have let anyone, except possibly his brother, see how he really felt.

The kiss that came next caught Mirage slightly off-guard, but he was still quick to respond. The next thing he knew he was virtually thrown to the floor and Sideswipe's hands suddenly seemed to be everywhere.

"Are you sure we should be doing this in here?" Mirage asked. "I mean..."

Sideswipe cut him off by razing his circuits with his energy-field. "The room's booked for the evening, there are no security systems, and if anyone does walk in we'll just tell them that you needed some hand-to-hand training."

"I've never heard it called that before," Mirage chuckled.

"We really are from different worlds, aren't we?" Sideswipe mused as he ran his fingers down Mirage's thighs.

"Savage," the blue and white mech whispered in Sideswipe's audio.

"My Lord," Sideswipe mocked him back.

"Possessive, aren't you," Mirage observed, and a thrill ran through his circuits when Sideswipe nodded.

The red mech's greedy hands moved to their interface cables and connected them. Emotions rushed to meet each other though the uplink, and need washed them all away.

Mirage felt Sideswipe's wants ripping through his systems, blazing through his body like flames of crimson and gold. Mirage froze. Suddenly the training room didn't feel private at all.

"Relax," Sideswipe soothed him, "this is how it's supposed to be."

"For you maybe," Mirage retorted, as he struggled to accept the bewildering sensations. "I don't have a brother who can slip into my consciousness and enjoy my interfaces without even being in the room. I had you all to myself last time."

"That was then," Sideswipe murmured. "Just try it, you might like it."

"Everything changes," Mirage whispered. For the first time in cycles the words brought joy to his spark instead of sorrow. _The sensations are odd, but not unpleasant, _Mirage reasoned, and he surrendered to the desires that seemed to be waiting to consume his body and processor.

A moment, an amazing, processor-searing moment, later their over-load crashed over them. Sideswipe held him tightly while he rode out the ecstasy, and kissed him softly as the ripples of pleasure began to subside. "I knew you'd like it," he said without any trace of the uncertainty that Mirage could feel through the cables.

"Some times I even surprise myself," Mirage said with an indulgent smile.

Sideswipe kissed him again and stood up, before reaching down and hauling Mirage to his feet. "Do you think you could handle more of this?" he asked almost as if he feared the answer.

"Tonight?" Mirage asked. He couldn't quite resist teasing the red mech, but he dropped the mischief when Sideswipe shot him a dangerous look. "I'm not quite sure what you're asking me?" he admitted.

"I'm trying to ask you if this is a one time thing because you were glad to see me, or if you'd like more," Sideswipe explained slowly. "We were a fling before, two younglings having fun, but our whole worlds have changed since then, and I'd really like something stable in my life right now, and so would Sunny, if you think you can handle that. I'm not asking for promises of eternal devotion, but it would be nice to know where I stand."

Mirage was impressed by the honestly and length of Sideswipe's explanation, and decided it was time to tell his own truths. "I tried to find you after Perihex fell," he said as he intertwined his fingers with the red twin's. "But even with my connections I couldn't. I thought you were dead, and that possibility almost tore me apart. I was already in love with you, but I thought that if I told you that you'd run, and I'd never see you again. As for Sunstreaker, I honestly don't know, he's always been a mystery to me, but you know how much I like those."

"I remember," Sideswipe said with a fond smile as he led the blue and white mech out of the training room. "While we were in Perihex you were always at you happiest when you could just sit and watch a crowd. You'd tell me everything about them. Those observations and your ability to know who to trust probably saved my life back then."

"Glad I helped," Mirage said quietly.

Sideswipe slipped an arm around him, and pulled him into a tender kiss.

The smallest of noises made both jump, and they sprang apart to find Jazz smirking at them.

"Problem Jazz?" Sideswipe asked cautiously.

"So long as you keep your hands to yourselves, and your processors on the job, when we're out on missions I don't care," the black and white grinned. "You've got five cycles. Have at it and enjoy yourselves."

Sideswipe barked a laugh while Mirage looked slightly shocked by his commander's bluntness, but Jazz didn't hang around. With a final, jaunty wave he continued on his way.

"Isn't that the direction of Wheeljack's quarters?" Mirage asked curiously.

"It's the way to a lot of places," Sideswipe muttered, it was clear that he thought nothing of it.

"He did seem eager to get somewhere though," Mirage continued in his usual haughty tone.

Sideswipe gave him a considering look. "Do you know something I don't?" he asked plainly.

"Usually," Mirage said with a smile.

* * *

><p>Sunstreaker was polishing himself nonchalantly when the others joined him, but the glance he gave Mirage was so intense that Mirage almost backed up. "I didn't think you'd come," the golden warrior said quietly.<p>

"I didn't think you cared," Mirage retorted. He was pleased that he sounded more confident than he felt.

Sunstreaker stood up gracefully, and Mirage was suddenly incredibly aware of just how beautiful and imposing he was. "It was me that saw you first," he said in a low, husky tone. "Sides went after you because I pointed you out. He had a wonderful time, and so did I."

"You were always there," Mirage realised, "you just hid from me."

Sunstreaker smirked and Mirage knew he was right, although he was not about to confess that he didn't understand the how of it. Suddenly it dawned on him that he still had an awful lot to learn about the two mechs who he had thought he knew well.

Mirage glanced over his shoulder at Sideswipe, who was perched on the edge of his berth, and watching them. He gave Mirage a small reassuring smile, and Mirage remembered his words from the training room. _This is how it's supposed to be,_ he told himself. The whole situation seemed almost beyond his comprehension, but to the twins it was normal.

He turned back to Sunstreaker, reached up and caressed the perfect lines of the golden twin's cheek. Mirage was intent on savouring the moment, he'd waited vorns to be so close to the beautiful mech before him. Sunstreaker bent his neck, their lips brushed together more gently than Mirage had expected. It seemed that Sunstreaker didn't want to rush things either, but it certainly didn't lack in passion or intensity. Mirage lost himself in the moment, and ignored everything except his desires.

"You should have said something sooner," Mirage scolded the golden twin as he found himself wrapped in strong, but gentle arms.

"If I had Storm would have torn you apart," Sunstreaker said bluntly. "He made it clear from the start that he wouldn't share me."

"But surely that goes against your basic programming," Mirage mused, truly confused.

"That's what Sides used to say," Sunstreaker admitted, "but I wouldn't listen. It's a flaw of mine."

"We all have those," Mirage said kindly. "I'll forgive yours if you'll forgive mine."

Sunstreaker looked vaguely bemused, as if he couldn't think of how any of Mirage's faults could possibly rival his own, but he nodded. "Are you staying?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?"

Sunstreaker turned away, and lay down on his berth. Once he was settled his optics looked up into Mirage's expectantly.

"That's a yes," Sideswipe said, with some amusement. "I think you might have to finally learn some manners Sunny," he teased his brother. He gave Mirage a gentle shove to get him moving, and before Mirage really had time to think about it he was on the berth with Sunstreaker curled around him and his head on Sideswipe's shoulder.

_This is insane,_ Mirage thought, as Sideswipe ducked down and kissed him before laying back and falling into recharge. _How the Pit is this going to work?_ His exhausted processor failed to come up with an answer, and he decided that there was nothing he could do except rest.

Mirage was on edge from the moment came back online the next cycle. There was an empty space on his in front of him where Sideswipe had been, but he could still feel Sunstreaker curled in behind him. For an awkward moment he considered pretending he was still in recharge until Sunstreaker left, but the golden twin didn't seem to have anywhere else to be, and Mirage had promised to meet Jazz at the targeting range in ten breems.

Sunstreaker shifted, and Mirage cursed himself as his intakes hitched. His own body had betrayed him.

"It's okay y'know," Sunstreaker said drowsily. "I won't bite you, unless you ask me to."

"Where's Sideswipe?" Mirage asked cautiously.

"Duty-shift," Sunstreaker explained. "He would have been late if I hadn't reminded him."

"You've been online for a while then?"

"On and off. You looked comfortable, and I'm betting you haven't been recharging much since you got here."

"No, I haven't," Mirage admitted. "Nearly every time I tried to shut down I started thinking about Crystal City, but last night I was too tired to think properly about anything."

When Sunstreaker failed to say anything back Mirage shuffled himself round to face him, and gave him an inquiring look.

"Did you want me to say I'm sorry?" Sunstreaker asked. "I'm not. You're here, that makes Sides happy, and the rest doesn't matter."

"How can you say that the destruction of my city means nothing?" Mirage asked angrily.

"It's history," Sunstreaker explained, "when the story of this war is written it'll say Crystal City fell and give a number of the dead."

"How..." Mirage found that he was too furious to even finish his accusation, and for a moment he actually considered slapping the golden warrior, although part of his processor was screaming at him that hitting Sunstreaker was a spectacularly bad idea.

"Do you think it'll say anymore about Perihex?" Sunstreaker asked. "Or Kaon? Or Uraya?"

"You piece of slag," Mirage snarled. He all but threw himself off the berth intending to storm out, but Sunstreaker followed him almost impossibly quickly and made a grab for him. Mirage engaged his invisibility-shield just in time and danced backwards. Sunstreaker's fingers missed him by not much at all, and he growled in frustration before slamming his palm into the door, locking it and cutting off Mirage's only route of escape.

"You can hide, but you can't run," the golden warrior said, with a wicked smile.

"I can't believe that you're actually enjoying this," Mirage hissed. He moved carefully as soon as he'd finished speaking, and Sunstreaker's grasp missed him again.

The golden twin snatched up something from the desk, Mirage realised too late that it was a can of paint, and a Sunstreaker yellow cloud filled the room. With his cloak compromised Mirage shut it down and glared defiantly at Sunstreaker, the smile he got in exchange was predatory.

Fury burned Mirage's circuits. He kicked out hard, catching Sunstreaker in his mid-section and knocking him backwards. He recovered quickly, dived for Mirage again, and received a two handed swing to his shoulder for his efforts.

"I'm not someone you can hunt Sunstreaker. I'm not weak, and I'm not scared of you."

"Then what are you?" Sunstreaker demanded. "Tell me and I'll let you go."

"Better than you," Mirage snapped, although he wasn't certain that was what Sunstreaker was asking. "Smarter than you, quicker than you. I've hunted turbo-foxes with more spark than you, put them down and called it mercy. I am Mirage of Crystal City, a Lord of Cybertron and you should be kneeling at my feet." For a wonder Sunstreaker did exactly that, leaving Mirage stunned beyond words until realisation hit him. "It was all just a game."

"It was a little more than that," Sunstreaker told him. "I've been watching you since you arrived here, and apart from that moment on the shuttle when you said you wanted in, you've just been going through the motions, sure you've been studying us to keep yourself entertained, but mostly you've just been scared, and that worried me. I had to be sure there was still some fight in you because otherwise there's no way you're going to survive whatever comes next."

"That was quite a speech for you," Mirage murmured. The Sunstreaker he remembered sometimes had trouble stringing two words together, if he spoke at all, which he often didn't.

"I may not be among the great thinkers of Cybertron, but I understand that sometimes a word can do just as much damage as a fist." Sunstreaker stood up slowly as he spoke, and Mirage knew that if he had told the warrior to stay down he would have. "I'm sorry for everything I said, and did." the golden twin apologised, "I wasn't going to physically hurt you."

Mirage considered Sunstreaker's words and actions. He'd never expected to see genuine remorse in Sunstreaker's optics, but it was there, and although the golden warrior had tried to catch him Mirage knew that he was capable of much worse. Everything he had said and done had been carefully set up to achieve his goal. Mirage didn't know whether to be indignant or impressed.

"Very cleaver Sunstreaker," he conceded, "but I'm not sure if it helps me trust you."

"I don't care if you do or not," Sunstreaker said honestly, "but I'll make you three promises here and now; when we're alone I will treat you with the respect that you deserve as a lord of Cybertron, I will do everything I can to keep you alive including fragging you off when necessary, and if you mess with Sideswipe's feelings I'll tear you in half."

"Understood," was all Mirage could think of to say.

"Good. Can I get you some energon?"

"Yes please," Mirage said faintly. Sunstreaker's almost bi-polar swings of temperament were making his processor spin. He sank down on the edge of the berth as Sunstreaker left the room. _I should have stayed in recharge,_ he thought, but he knew that his respite would be brief. Sunstreaker wouldn't be gone long, and he had no idea what to expect when the door opened again.

Sunstreaker returned less than a breem later, and flashed Mirage a smile. "There you go," he said brightly, as he handed over the fuel.

"Are you enjoying this?" Mirage asked.

"It's nice to have someone other than Sideswipe to talk to, if that's what you mean."

"You seem to get on well enough with the others," Mirage said lightly. If Sunstreaker wanted to act as if nothing had happened then he was willing to play along, for a while.

"They're okay," Sunstreaker admitted. "And they saved my life, so I owe them, but if we hadn't been thrown together I wouldn't have picked them as friends. I had a choice with you, and I miss that freedom."

"Is life here so bad?" Mirage probed more. He was delighted that Sunstreaker was being so open with him, but also more worried than ever about what he was getting in to.

"It's life," Sunstreaker said honestly. "It has rules. I understand that Jazz is our leader, and why. It's certainly not a job I'd like for myself, but there are times when I don't find it easy."

Mirage checked his chronometer. He was running out of time, and there was still so much that he wanted to know. "I have to meet Jazz soon," he explained, and Sunstreaker nodded.

"You're still not sure about me, are you?" he sounded amused.

"No."

"Then take your time," Sunstreaker told him. "I know that you like to work 'bots out, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," Mirage said gratefully. At least Sunstreaker wasn't forcing him to make a decision. He finished his energon, and rose gracefully.

"I'll see you later," he said as he let himself out.

"Go show Jazz just how good you can be," Sunstreaker grinned, and the door closed.

Mirage squared his shoulders and headed for the training levels. _After all that training should be easy, _he assured himself. Sunstreaker had been right about how he dealt with his lessons; he had tried, but he could have done better, and now it was his time to shine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Part 18**

For cycles Mirage worked hard, and his team-mates were all impressed by his dedication, although for Mirage himself both working and being part of a group still seemed alien. In his whole lifetime he had been able to count the number of 'bots he trusted on one hand, with fingers to spare, but suddenly he had a whole bunch of mechs to add to that number, and doing that didn't come naturally to him.

The twins were his greatest help during this time. Sideswipe in particular was happy to share stories of the unit's exploits, and helped to convince him that he was serving with good mechs, but somehow Sunstreaker, who rarely said more than he had to, was the one who reassured Mirage the most, simply with his presence.

_And what a presence, _Mirage foundhimself musing. Even in a room full of mechs, which they currently were, the golden warrior stood out both because of his beauty and his arrogance. Mirage knew that his unit was a new one, by military standards, but Sunstreaker gave no sign of being impressed by the more experienced mechs, or by how many pairs of optics looked at him admiringly.

"Attention!" a gruff voice barked, and every mech in the room instantly looked forward. A surly looking mech stood before them. "Magnus sends his apologies," he said curtly, "but matters of state keep him in Iacon. You have been called here to receive a new assignment. Now, I know that most of you have your own ongoing missions, but they'll have to wait."

A rumble of discontented comments flickered around the room, but no one spoke loud enough to be heard by the mech at the front. Mirage himself was more annoyed that the mech hadn't bothered to introduce himself, but then he supposed that most of the others already knew who he was.

"As you all know Crystal City fell..."

Mirage felt the energon in his systems run cold. He couldn't understand how anyone could talk about the destruction of his home so callously.

"...Most of the damage was done by one mech, a huge mech who is still at large and unidentified. The city also had a guardian named Omega, he was incapacitated during the attack, but managed to recover himself before the medics got to him. He has been missing ever since. As of now your priority is to find those mechs, the Decepticon must stand trial, the guardian's fate will be determined by his explanation. Dismissed."

The room filled with noise instantly. Jazz seemed to be one of the few mechs who wasn't shouting, he simply swept his gaze over his unit and led them out.

"Are you ready for this?" Jazz asked as he fell into step with Mirage.

"Yes sir," Mirage answered immediately.

"Drop the sir, and grab your gear," Jazz ordered. "I want to be airborne in ten breems." the unit scattered.

"Is it always like this?" Mirage asked Sideswipe as they hurried to their quarters.

"Mostly," Sideswipe answered honestly. "Sometimes we'll have more warning, or Jazz'll give us a few cycles to actually have lives, but usually he gives the orders and we run."

Mirage turned into his quarters, and let the door cycle closed behind him before he stood still. Suddenly he found himself wondering what he was supposed to take with him; his rifle was the only obvious thing, and he snatched that up quickly. But aside from that he didn't really have anything else. All the beautiful trinkets and works of art that he had collected were gone, destroyed along with his previous home. The loss stung his spark again, and he turned to leave before his grief returned full-force.

* * *

><p>For cycles Steelhaven and her crew searched Cybertron. They tapped every source of information they could think of; allies, enemies, Jazz hacked every hub they could get close to, but for a long time they came up with nothing.<p>

Mirage started to doubt that there was anything for them to find, but eventually, fourteen long cycles later, Jazz ran into the rear cabin and grinned at his unit. "There's a small port two mega-miles east of here. They have a reservation, an inter-planetary class shuttle has been requisitioned by a mech named Hook. It looks like a rendezvous point."

"The Constructicons split up so they'd be less noticeable," Hound added, as he joined them from the helm. "One of them is inbound."

"'Breaker's put a call out for prisoner transport," Jazz picked up again. His tone was suddenly serious. "I want him alive." Although Jazz never looked directly at him Mirage knew that the last few words were meant for him. He wasn't sure if he could follow the order, but he'd find out soon enough. "Sideswipe with me," Jazz continued, "Mirage, go with Sunstreaker and get ahead of him, 'Breaker will tell you when to jump. Hound, 'Jack, stay ready. Sides."

Sideswipe was already moving towards the hatch. As it opened Mirage realised how low they were flying, and he started to feel a little better about the word _jump_, but the rest of Jazz's instructions still bothered him. _This is it,_ he realised, _no more training, not more practice. This is real. _A thrill surged through him. He'd never liked fighting, and war appalled him, but this felt like a hunt.

Jazz and Sideswipe left them with a 'whoop' a moment later. Sunstreaker rose lazily, pulled Mirage over to take their place, and smiled. "Time for some fun."

Half a breem later Trailbreaker called out the signal, and they jumped. For a moment Mirage felt weightless as the air rushed past him, and the ground sped towards him. He landed with his knees bent to take the shock, and his arms out for balance just as he had been taught.

The landscape around them was all small ravines, and out-crops, and small crystals glittered everywhere. At any other time Mirage would have thought the sight beautiful, but in that moment it was just a distraction he could do with out.

"_There's another mech coming in three points off south,"_ Wheeljack's comm crackled with static. _"And possibly a third behind him, but 'Breaker says that something is interfering with the scanners, he thinks it's geological."_

"Wonderful," Sunstreaker said with false cheerfulness.

"_You see them, you light them up,"_ Jazz's voice was a little less distorted than Wheeljack's, but not much. _"Keep it tight, mechs."_

Mirage engaged his invisibility cloak and led Sunstreaker by the hand, as the golden twin couldn't track him. A breem or so later they saw their green and purple target. For a moment Mirage thought he might purge his tanks. The mech, and his currently absent friends had been the maintenance team for his city, he had known them through his creator's dealings, they had been polite and respectful every time they had met, except for the last when their optics had been red not yellow, and they had destroyed everything he had known.

Sunstreaker slipped a pair of stasis-cuffs into his hand, and held up three fingers. Mirage started the countdown. The golden twin went one way around a boulder to punch the mech in the face, while Mirage went the other to catch his hands and restrain him. As they moved laser-fire lit the sky. Steelhaven was firing at another of their targets, and it was close.

Jazz was suddenly at Mirage's side, between them they managed to get the cuffs on the Constructicon. He was bigger than both of them, but they had surprise, and Sunstreaker, on their side.

The second Constructicon broke cover close by, but regretted it almost instantly as the twins pounced on him. He never saw Hound coming up behind him.

"Two down," Jazz said cheerfully.

Their most recent captive gave a harsh laugh. "You don't stand a chance," he snarled.

Sunstreaker kicked him in the head. "There's always a chance," he growled back.

"Decoy!" Jazz barked suddenly, and all of his unit moved at once. Sunstreaker caught Mirage by the wrist and yanked him to cover. The explosion came as Mirage's back hit the wall.

Sunstreaker grunted as the shrapnel caught him in the back. None of his injuries were serious, but they still hurt. Mirage looked up at him with concern clear in his optics.

"Be more careful next time," Sunstreaker ordered, before he whirled away and opened fire.

Mirage spun his rifle from his shoulder to his hands in one easy, well practiced move, and climbed the small out-crop that had saved his life a moment earlier. The rest of the Constructicons were fighting hard, one of the prisoners was free and helping the other, Wheeljack had joined the fight, and the ground was shaking. _How the pit am I supposed to keep up with all this,_ he wondered.

The low rumble that came up through the ground rose to fill his audios, he was dimly aware of Jazz shouting orders through the comm, but he had no idea what they were.

Thick bursts of laser-fire lit the sky and scorched the ground. Mirage knew that they weren't from Steelhaven, even her main cannon didn't produce anything like that much power.

"Don't shoot back," he finally heard Jazz bellow down the comm. The thought hadn't even occurred to him.

The grind of a transformation cog sounded above everything else, and then a thud almost loud enough to be called an explosion.

Mirage had seen Omega Supreme many times. The guardian had stood watch over his city since the war had begun, but he had never seen him land before, and he understood why in that moment; the shock wave it caused would have taken out every window in the city.

Omega Supreme waded into the fight, which Mirage was just realising that he was taking no part in. He fired off a few shots at a nearby Constructicon, the mech's thick armour protected him, but it provided a brief distraction and Sideswipe pounced on him.

"Jazz watch out," Mirage shouted, but he knew that his warning came too late, and he watched in horror as his commander, and the mech he had been fighting, received a savage kick from Omega. Both mechs practically flew across the battlefield, and landed in a tangled heap. The Constructicon extracted himself first, and fortunately for Jazz seemed to decide that he was no longer a threat.

Mirage managed to lay down some cover-fire as Wheeljack charged through the fight to help Jazz, who hadn't managed to stand up, but he knew there was little else he could do.

All the Constructicons were engaging the twins and Hound by then, but his friends didn't seem to realise the danger they were in. "Get away from them!" Mirage yelled, and for a wonder they heard him.

Hound realised what was happening first, and started to back off, all but dragging Sideswipe with him. Sunstreaker was slightly too slow on the uptake, and was caught by one of Omega's brutal kicks, which had been aimed at the merging Constructicons.

Mirage found himself just staring at the process of five mechs building themselves into one being. Omega's kick had slowed them down a little, and the giant mech stumbled to his feet rather than rising gracefully, but there was nothing anyone could do to stop the event.

"Fear me," the mech roared. "Fear the wrath of Devastator."

"Omega Supreme fears nothing," Omega shouted back.

"Neither do I," Sunstreaker called. His voice sounded almost insignificant after the two giants, but Mirage wasn't surprised to see him running back into the fight, with Sideswipe right behind him.

At most the twins were a diversion, but Mirage liked to think that they helped Omega land a few blows. For his own part he found there wasn't much he could do again, except for shout out warnings, and hope that he was being useful.

He flinched every time the twins went within range of Devastator's massive feet, but it seemed that the warriors were too fast for him, _or maybe he had other ideas,_ Mirage realised as Devastator suddenly turned, and fled. _He wasn't really trying,_ he thought, _he was just looking for an escape._

A flurry of moment from where Jazz had landed caught Mirage's optics. His commander was finally on his feet, and struggling to push Wheeljack away. "Omega wait!" he shouted.

The former guardian turned and looked at their commander without expression. "Supply reason," the big mech said in a flat tone.

"By the order of Sentinel Prime you are commanded to return to Iacon. My unit and I will capture the Constructicons, and they will face trial," Jazz explained. He hoped that the stiff way he was holding himself would be taken for an official posture, but the truth was that he was in agony.

"Strength insufficient," Omega responded. "Trial insufficient."

"You mean to hunt them down," Jazz guessed, "and you know that we can't stop you."

"Farewell Autobot." The Supreme transformed and sped off.

"_Orders?"_ Trailbreaker asked through the comm, just beating everyone else.

"Let him go," Jazz instructed. "The Constructicons are headed off-world where Steelhaven can't follow, and Sunstreaker and I are in no fit state anyway."

"I'm fine," Sunstreaker protested.

"I got kicked too Sunny, I know it hurts."

"I came through it better than you."

"Ain't that the truth," Jazz muttered, and for the first time since he had called out to Omega he dared to move, it didn't go well, and he would have fallen if Wheeljack hadn't suddenly appeared at his side, slipped an arm around his waist, and helped him to where Steelhaven was coming in to land. Even with Wheeljack's support Jazz's intakes were working furiously before he reached the hatch.

Trailbreaker was waiting for them when they boarded. He greeted Hound first, pulling him into a tight hug and giving him a quick kiss, before he even glanced at the others. "You've got to start being more careful Jazz," he scolded his friend.

Jazz shot him a withering look, and Wheeljack jumped into the conversation in the hope of speeding it up. "His coolant pump has failed. Now move out."

"Oh Primus," Trailbreaker muttered as he started for the helm.

* * *

><p>"How's Jazz?" Hound asked as soon as Wheeljack came out of the rear cabin, where their commander had been resting since take-off.<p>

"Recharging," Wheeljack answered wearily, "and so long as he stays that way he'll be fine. I don't know if his self-repair systems can take care of the damage, but I'm not replacing a pump without a proper medic at least." he settled himself in behind Sunstreaker, and started cleaning the energon from his back to get a better look. "Sorry you had to wait Sunny."

"No, you're not," the golden twin shot back.

"What?" Wheeljack asked, looking confused.

"You're not sorry," Sunstreaker said clearly. "We all know that as far as you're concerned Jazz comes first." Something in his tone stopped Wheeljack cold. He was used to Sunstreaker being abrasive, but this was new.

"What do you mean Sunstreaker?"

"We all know that Jazz is more important to you than the rest of us," the twin said lazily. "Who can blame you for that. I bet he's great in the berth."

Wheeljack shoved himself away from his work. "That's none of you business," he said curtly.

"I know," Sunstreaker agreed, "but I think it's time that we stopped playing games. I don't know why you didn't tell us, but we all know that you're 'facing him, so you can stop hiding."

Hound raised his hand. "Just for the record," he interjected, "I had no idea."

Sunstreaker shot him an arrogantly sympathetic look. "I would have thought that Trailbreaker would have told you. I gather he's known for some time."

"Maybe _he_ saw that it was nothing to do with _him_," Wheeljack snapped.

Sunstreaker stood up and did a fairly good job of looming over Wheeljack. "Didn't you trust us?"

"Back off Sunstreaker," Wheeljack warned him.

"Now I understand why he always kept you out of harm's way. Didn't you ever think that he was putting himself in danger to keep you safe? Personally I'd be insulted."

Mirage chose that moment to stand up and try to defuse the situation, but to his surprise it was Wheeljack's glare that sent him back to his seat. He exchange a worried glance with Sideswipe, but neither mech knew what to do.

"I'm not you," Wheeljack pointed out. At any other time the thought of facing off against Sunstreaker would have terrified him, but in that moment he was simply too angry to be scared. "I'm not a warrior, or a spy, I'm just an engineer. I do may part as best I can, and when our work is done I try to keep Jazz sane."

"Such a hardship..."

"Enough!" Jazz's order cut off the rest of what Sunstreaker had been about to say.

Wheeljack spun around instantly, and reached out for Jazz. "You need to take it easy," he warned. "I thought you were recharging, or I never would have left you."

"Hard to recharge with you and Sunny shouting at each other." His intakes were already working harder than Wheeljack would have liked. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later," Wheeljack said soothingly, as he tried to push Jazz back into the other cabin.

Jazz shoved him back, and staggered with the effort that it cost him.

"You can't hide behind a mech that can barely stand 'Jack," Sunstreaker taunted.

"Then I'll take his place," Mirage said smoothly as he stood up again, and stepped between the arguing mechs. "Look after Jazz 'Jack. I'll take care of Sunstreaker."

Wheeljack nodded, and glared at Jazz. "Go, or I'll carry you," he threatened.

Jazz left the room with an indignant huff, and Wheeljack followed him before Mirage spoke again. "Hound, Sides, would you mind?"

Sideswipe collected Hound, who hadn't moved since he had last spoken and was looking more than a little dazed, and took him up to the helm.

"What's this all about?" he asked, in a low tone that captured his controlled anger perfectly.

"Jazz asked me to trust him, and I have. For nearly two vorns I've trusted him with my life, and then I found out that he was keeping secrets, maybe for the whole time."

"One secret," Mirage reminded him. "You can't know anymore about it than Sideswipe, and I told him everything he knows. The rest was just you guessing, and working out which of Wheeljack's buttons to push."

"Does it matter?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"Don't take that tone with me," Mirage said imperiously. "Remember who you're talking to Sunstreaker."

"I remember," the golden twin assured him, and to Mirage's surprise he knelt before him again. "And I remember what I promised you."

"Good," Mirage nodded. "Now, once you and Jazz have been repaired, and we've all had some recharge you can ask your questions, but you will ask nicely or it won't just be Jazz that you'll have to answer to, understood?"

"I understand my lord," Sunstreaker said loyally. "I'll see you when we get back to Nova Cronum." He stood up, offered Mirage a nod that could have passed for a bow, and swaggered off towards the hold.

Sideswipe peered around the door of the helm cabin. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Your brother promised me that when we were alone he would treat me like the lord I was sparked to be. A foolish promise perhaps, one I'm sure he'll regret, but it reminds him of how things were before the war, and he doesn't have much of that life left."

Sideswipe nodded, but vaguely. It seemed that he only half understood, but that was enough for Mirage. With some relief he sank into his lover's embrace and allowed himself to relax. After so many tense cycles of waiting, a battle, and facing off against Sunstreaker, who he was still wary of, his processor was over-taxed and his body ached.

"Is it always like this?" he asked.

"No," Sideswipe assured him. "Well, there's usually a fight, and we do a lot of sneaking around, but we usually get on better, and sometimes it's even fun."

"I doubt that you and I define fun the same way," Mirage said dryly. He wasn't sure if he felt better or not, but he tried to reassure himself with the fact that while his first mission hadn't been particularly successful, at least they had gotten through it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Part 19 **

Mirage remained in his lover's arms until the shuttle finally landed in Nova Cronum. He felt safe there, and comfortable. Such rare things in his world.

They stayed aboard long enough to ensure that Wheeljack could manage Jazz, who was by then too weak to put up much of a fight about going to the med-bay. Then headed back to Sideswipe's quarters. Sunstreaker had disembarked the moment Steelhaven hit the ground, and Mirage could only hope that he had the sense to visit the medics too.

He had only glimpsed the golden twins injuries as he had stormed out of the cabin, and while he was sure that they weren't life threatening, they had looked painful.

"Maybe I should have taken Jazz's advice and gone to Iacon," Mirage said morosely. "At least there's high-grade in the capital."

"For high-grade I'd go with you," Sideswipe humoured him, "for a single measure of the stuff I'd leave this whole life behind and live in poverty."

Mirage gave him a withering look. "This is poverty."

"It must seem so to you," Sideswipe allowed him, "but for most of us this..." he gestured to the city, "is more than enough."

"I still have a lot to learn," Mirage said sadly, and he leant into his lover for comfort.

"You're doing fine Mirage," the red twin assured him, "I know that the changes haven't been easy, but you are making good progress. You defer to Jazz at the right times, and you're making friends with the others. Did I tell you how proud I was of the way you stood up for Wheeljack?"

Mirage looked surprised. "No, you didn't."

"Well, I should have. A few cycles ago you would have stood there, let Sunstreaker rant, and been entertained by it."

"I was worried about Jazz," Mirage stated.

"And that's a breakthrough," Sideswipe encouraged him, before rewarding him with a deep kiss. "You're not just watching them for your own amusement anymore. You're actually caring."

"Was I so sparkless before?"

"Not to me, or Sunny, or your friends, but to relative strangers..." He pulled Mirage close. "Well, yes, you could be." He was struggling to be tactful, and Mirage appreciated that much. Such things didn't come naturally to Sideswipe.

They kissed again and walked on. Mirage did his best to set aside his worries. He had other concerns, but they would have to wait until Jazz was out of the med-bay. He let Sideswipe reassure him, and then tease him a little, until they were both flirting and giggling like younglings.

They fell into each others arms as the door to Sideswipe's quarters closed. Kissing, caressing, feeling each other as they realised that the worries of their mission no longer mattered.

Mirage had taken what he considered to be his fair share of lovers, but none of them had treated him the way Sideswipe did. The others had treated him with respect, touched him with reverence, romanced him, and always acted with formality. Sideswipe thought nothing of throwing him up against a wall and 'facing him until his legs gave out. Mirage found the latter far more satisfying. There was no grace, or deference, but the passion he felt more than made up for those.

Exhausted, and still feeling the last shudders of their overloads, they fell into their berth. Sideswipe was recharging within astro-seconds, but Mirage merely powered-down his systems, and settled down to await Sunstreaker's return, with his spark fluttering in anticipation.

* * *

><p>It was very late when the door opened again. Sunstreaker hardly made a sound as he crossed the room, but he moved stiffly enough for Mirage to see that his repairs were only just starting to heal.<p>

As Sunstreaker sat down on the berth, and rolled his shoulders to ease his tense neck cables, Mirage slipped out from under Sideswipe's arm, and rose gracefully.

"How are you?" he asked, as he took the few steps to Sunstreaker's berth.

"Been worse," the golden twin shrugged. "At least the medic had time to fix my paint as well as my back, and you and Sides helped to keep me entertained."

Mirage couldn't hide his shock. "You didn't..." he trailed off as Sunstreaker started laughing quietly.

"No," he said, still chucking, "I don't overload just because Sideswipe does. We can influence each other, but not control."

"Oh," Mirage was so embarrassed that he wasn't quite sure where to look. "Sorry, I..."

"Think of it was watching a show," Sunstreaker advised him, "it's fun, and it can leave me running a little hot, but without more stimulation that's as far as it goes."

Mirage reached out, and laid his hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder; his armour was indeed a little warmer than a mech's would usually be.

Again Sunstreaker looked amused. "My cooling systems are better than that," he said mildly, "but the way you walked across to me makes me think that you may be here for more than an enquiry about my health."

Sunstreaker's infernal honesty rendered Mirage speechless. His up-bringing made it hard for him to talk casually about interfacing, but Sunstreaker had no such problem. Instead he decided that he should just go with his instincts and kissed the warrior. Sunstreaker responded hungrily as he pulled Mirage down onto his lap.

It was the first time they had kissed, or shown each other any real affection since Mirage had spent the night recharging between the twins, but this was different; not tender, or curious, but passionate, and hungry, as if he was starving, desperate even.

Mirage didn't, couldn't say a word. The way Sunstreaker moved entranced him. There was such control, such intent in the way Sunstreaker laid him down. The golden twin's optics never left his as his hands moved slowly and deliberately down Mirage's body. Clever fingers traced the contours of his armour, and worked their ways into the seams expertly.

By comparison Mirage felt almost clumsy. It seemed so important to Sunstreaker to hold his gaze that he didn't dare look away, but that rendered him almost blind as to where his own fingers roamed. Sunstreaker didn't seem to mind, as if he only craved the contact, but didn't care what form the touches came in, or where.

Mirage hissed slightly as Sunstreaker's fingers dug deeply into his wiring a little too quickly, but it was a pleasant sort of pain. "That feels good," he murmured, hoping that his words wouldn't break the spell they seemed to have fallen under. They didn't, Sunstreaker seemed encouraged, he even smiled, although his optics remained as attentive as ever.

There was a small sound behind Mirage, and he realised that Sideswipe had come back online. He worried for a moment, the red twin had made it clear that he was happy for Mirage to have both of them, but it still felt like cheating. His concerns melted away as Sideswipe slipped into the berth behind him, and held him loosely.

He tried to reach back, to use one hand for each twin, but Sideswipe batted the hand away without a word, and nuzzled into his neck.

Feeling nervous, but only the wondrous nerves that came with new experience, Mirage opened the panel that protected his port so that Sunstreaker wouldn't have to ask him to do it.

Sunstreaker's hands trembled as they brushed carefully down the length of the sensory-cables in Mirage's side. The anticipation seemed to be becoming too much for him, and Mirage realised that it must be more than two vorns since Sunstreaker had been so intimate with anyone. _What did Stormrider do to you?_ He wondered, but such thoughts were soon set aside in favour of enjoying the moment.

Still looking deeply into Mirage's optics Sunstreaker withdrew one hand from his inner-workings, and connected his interface cable to the blue and white mech. Almost immediately he hit firewalls and growled softly.

Jazz had insisted that they all had the very best protection while they were on missions, and it seemed that Mirage hadn't thought to lower his on his return to Nova Cronum. He mentally butted up against the barriers that kept him out of Mirage's programming. "More," he requested in a low tone. If Mirage didn't like the idea he would let it be, but if it was a simple oversight then he would see it put right.

The experience was worth the gamble. To feel the firewalls being peeled away one by one, and be allowed a little deeper as each one fell was delightful, to an almost sinful degree.

Mirage shook as their bodies pressed together. Sunstreaker moved his hips at a slow, driving pace, and each movement allowed different connections to be made. He fired quick bursts of data at each contact. Each one caused his lover to shudder afresh.

Sunstreaker struggled to keep their optics locked on each others as their bodies arched in pleasure, but he managed it, watched in awe as Mirage overloaded and lost control of his energy-field, which was more than enough to send the golden twin tumbling into bliss. On the edge of his consciousness he was aware of Sideswipe crying out and joining him.

He forced his optics to focus on Mirage as soon as he was able. His lover was content, and exhausted; he could feel as much through the still connected cable. To have what he could see backed up in such a way reassured him greatly, but there was one niggle, which he became aware of just as Mirage shifted uncomfortably.

With the twins heated bodies both in front, and behind him, Mirage was unable to cool his own frame. Sunstreaker kissed him softly, and bent his neck so that his mouth was close to Mirage's audio. "Don't move," he whispered.

His lover complied, but looked at him questioningly. There was no reason why he should comprehend, as far as Sunstreaker knew the modification he was about to use was unique to himself, and his brother. He moved his cable within Mirage, not to find sensory-nodes, but a coolant line.

Mirage felt an odd pinch, and then the even stranger sensation of cold liquid being forced into his systems. His processor struggled to adapt to the feeling, but his overtaxed systems overloaded again. He clung to his lover, and the twins held him tenderly in return.

"How did you...?" Mirage began to ask, but Sunstreaker forestalled him.

"We don't get many complaints," he said with a small smile, which implied that few would dare. "But the heat we put out between us has been mentioned before."

Mirage chucked weakly, and winced slightly as Sunstreaker removed his cable. The loss of sensation left him feeling empty. It was strange to become so attached to a lover so quickly, but then there had always been something about Sunstreaker.

He kissed the golden twin, then turned and repeated the action with his brother, being careful not to show favour to either one. He still wasn't sure how his unusual situation would work, but for the time being at least he was more than content.

* * *

><p>"<em>Sunstreaker,"<em> the comm was what brought the golden twin reluctantly out of recharge. _"Report to Wheeljack's quarters as soon as you can."_

He glanced at Mirage, who was still pressed close to him. He was starting to come back online. He kissed the blue and white mech between the optics, and resisted the urge to push him onto his back and ravish him.

"I've been summoned," he said quietly, as Mirage's optics focused on his face.

"Be nice," Mirage said with a gentle smile. "I know you can do it."

Sunstreaker huffed irritably. "It's no fun though."

"Try," Mirage told him, before giving him a long, lingering kiss. "Try, and we'll have some fun when you're done."

"Promise," Sunstreaker whispered softly.

"I promise," Mirage confirmed. "Now go before I make you very late."

"Any more of that talk and I'll be making myself late," Sunstreaker murmured in his new lover's audio. "Will you think about me while I'm gone?"

"So long as your brother doesn't require my full attention," Mirage said with a slightly mischievous smile. "But I will certainly look forward to your return."

Sunstreaker beamed, and just for a moment Mirage thought he looked almost innocent, like a youngling who had never known trouble, or pain. Then the expression was gone, the golden twin slipped off the berth without another word, and the warrior walked out of the door.

"He's pleased that you're starting to trust him," Sideswipe said, and Mirage jumped. He hadn't realised that the red twin was back online.

"I know," Mirage whispered back, "but I'm worried about him. Even when we were together last night I got the feeling that he was holding back on me."

"He's still healing," Sideswipe reminded him.

"He's barely even started. I had no idea how much damage Stormrider had done to him."

Sideswipe shifted uneasily; Mirage's words were far too accurate for his liking. Most mechs, even his own unit to a point saw Sunstreaker as a young, angry mech, and didn't question why he still acted so aloof, which in all fairness was how Sunstreaker wanted it. Sideswipe was pleased that Mirage didn't see his brother that way though, it showed that he truly cared.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack greeted the golden twin at the door to his quarters. His optics were wary, but to Sunstreaker's surprise the engineer wasn't wearing his face-mask, and he was smiling genuinely. Sunstreaker supposed that Jazz's presence in his berth could explain Wheeljack's cheerful mood.<p>

"This will have to be a little less formal than our usual debriefs," Jazz said with a self-depreciating smile. He raised his arm slightly to show off a thick strap that tethered him to the berth.

Sunstreaker tried valiantly not to laugh; he'd heard various medics threaten to tie their patients to a berth, but he'd never known one actually do it.

Jazz gestured to the edge of a work-bench, and Sunstreaker leant against it.

"The way you spoke to Wheeljack while we were aboard Steelhaven was unacceptable," Jazz said sternly. "Do you have anything to say about it?"

"You lied to me," Sunstreaker said coldly. "You asked me to trust you..."

"And then didn't tell you that I was 'facing 'Jack, which made you wonder what else I haven't told you," Jazz interrupted. "I'm sorry Sunstreaker, but I've always considered what happens in a berth to be private, and my habit of not talking about my private life has kept me out of a lot of trouble, do you understand that?"

"I guess," Sunstreaker relented grudgingly.

Jazz chuckled, looked around to see how much attention Wheeljack was paying them, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, there's a secret for you; your unit commander has a tendency to interface with 'bots that he knows he shouldn't."

Sunstreaker's lip-components twitched into a smile. "You want me to apologise, don't you?"

"When you're ready Sunny," Jazz said cheerfully, "and not before, but I have come up with a pretty ingenious punishment for you."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed suspiciously. "Not the brig?" he asked. That was where he usually landed when he crossed the line.

"No," Jazz answered with a smile almost a mega-mile wide. "'Jack's told me about an invention of his, a none explosive one," he put in quickly, "and he needs a test subject."

"You're going to let him experiment on me!" Sunstreaker gaped. "The mech hates my internals. I'm sure he's told you that it's not dangerous, but how much do you actually understand?"

"Enough to know that you're perfect for the test. This is an exercise in trust Sunstreaker. Believe me when I tell you that I would willingly do this myself if I was able to stand, and that you can trust Wheeljack," the black and white gave him a weary, impish smile. "'Jack, you're up," he called before settling himself back on the berth.

Wheeljack approached with a canister of something in one hand, and something that Sunstreaker couldn't quite see in the other. "For the record Sunstreaker," he said in a fairly pleasant tone, "I don't hate you. I find you hard to understand, and occasionally insensitive, but I reserve my hate for my enemies."

"So what are you going to do to me?" the golden twin asked. He felt a little more relaxed, but he was still very confused.

"This," Wheeljack held up the small object, "is a program I've designed especially for you, and this," he raised the canister, "is what it controls. The chip uses your own sensory-net, and this coating, to change the refraction wavelengths of your armour."

"It changes my colours," Sunstreaker summarised, and Wheeljack nodded.

"More specifically it controls your colour-scheme, so instead of a respray all you'll have to do is access the program and become Rage."

"That's..." he couldn't actually believe what he was saying, "that's ingenious."

Wheeljack laughed. "Thank you, Sunstreaker," he said modestly. "Coming from you that means a lot. Now input that program while I put this on you."

"How long did it take you to do all this?" Sunstreaker asked after a few breems of silence.

"A while," Wheeljack admitted. "If I'd been able to just crack on it would have been a few cycles, but it seemed like every time I started to get somewhere I'd get called away on a mission, or asked to fix something."

Sunstreaker studied the floor. He wasn't one of the 'bots who had made demands on Wheeljack's time, but he was starting to understand just how much the engineer was taken for granted. When the mission was over he and Sideswipe were expected to do nothing more than spend a little time in the training rooms, but it seemed that Wheeljack spent most of his downtime creating things for their next mission, or someone else's. Sunstreaker was surprised that Wheeljack had found time to have a relationship as well.

"How long have you and Jazz been together?" he asked, after another long silence.

"We aren't," Wheeljack answered in a distracted tone. "At least not in a conventional sense. Jazz needs someone to hold him together, someone to care about him, and help him. For some Primus unknown reason he chose me."

A soft keening sounded from the berth, and Wheeljack straightened instantly to peer over the work-bench. Jazz had fallen into recharge, but wasn't resting well. He settled after a moment and Wheeljack bent back down to finish Sunstreaker's legs."Almost done."

"The program's loaded," Sunstreaker told him. "How soon will it work?"

"As soon as the coating is dry. Shouldn't be too long," Wheeljack answered, and he put the finishing touches to Sunstreaker's foot as he spoke.

Jazz let out another, slightly louder whimper, and Wheeljack swore as he hurried to the berth. He only glanced back at Sunstreaker once, to give him a simple, stern look that said, 'Don't move'.

Sunstreaker watched in fascination as Wheeljack bent down next over Jazz, and whispered softly to him until he settled again. He gave Wheeljack a quizzical look as the engineer sat down on the edge of the berth. "And you're not together?" It seemed so strange to him that the two mechs obviously cared about each other a great deal, but didn't seem to want to admit that they were in a relationship.

"Jazz and I have been in serious relationships before, none of them ended well," Wheeljack confessed. "This is better."

Sunstreaker found himself thinking about his own history. He'd always been able to find someone to share his berth, most of them had just been fun, Stormrider had been the only one that lasted any real amount of time, but he had never known the tenderness like he had just witnessed between Jazz and Wheeljack.

He'd always told himself that he liked it rough, that he enjoyed the feeling of pleasure verging on pain, but in that moment he couldn't help wondering what it would feel like with a gentle lover. Maybe he could find out with Mirage. The previous night had been the closest he had ever gotten, but it had pained him to hold back so much when what he had really wanted to do was let loose.

He shuffled slightly, and earned himself a warning look from Wheeljack, but it gave him a better view of the way the engineer was gently stroking the side of Jazz's face as he recharged. No one had touched Sunstreaker that way since his creators, and they had been dead for vorns. He looked away, telling himself that he didn't miss the 'bots who had sparked him. Every one of his memories was tainted anyway, every happiness he remembered from his sparkling-hood was soured by what had happened later.

Warmth crept into his bond, and for a moment he wondered if Sideswipe had caught his sombre mood, but it didn't feel quite right, and he quickly realised that his brother's attention was not on him. _Time for another show, _he thought happily. He had heard other 'bots talk about the 'guilty pleasure' of voyeurism, but it was a concept that Sunstreaker couldn't understand. He couldn't help being aware of what his twin was doing, and it was only natural for him to enjoy it too.

His core temperature jumped up a degree or so as he imagined Mirage's pleasure, and he smiled to himself. At least the extra heat would help his paint dry a little quicker.

_This probably isn't the punishment which Jazz thought it would be,_ Sunstreaker thought, as frustration crept into his processor, _but it's working pretty well. Our first full cycle back after a mission, I bet Hound and 'Breaker are at it too. While I'm stuck here watching one couple, whatever they might say, feeling another, and not getting any._

Eventually, and much to Sunstreaker's relief, Wheeljack stood up again.

"Is he okay?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Helplessness devastates Jazz every time," Wheeljack said tiredly. "I've never known a mech so unable to do nothing. Why do you think I tied him down?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Some 'bots are just wired that way."

Wheeljack chuckled as realisation lit his optics. "I hadn't even thought of that," he admitted. "Maybe in a few cycles when he's stronger."

"I'm doubt Jazz would object," Sunstreaker said honestly. "I bet he loves a bit of variety."

"That was almost tactfully phrased," Wheeljack said with a friendly smile. "And yes, he does."

For a moment Sunstreaker just looked at the engineer. Wheeljack's words were like a flash of light on the darkest of cycles, and suddenly he thought that he might understand. He knew that he was often blunt, and that his lack of sensitivity intimidated most of the 'bots he'd met and he had chosen his few friends out of those who didn't back up. Back then he had been able to chose who he spent his time with; those cycles were long gone. "Is that what bothers you about me?" he asked curiously.

The engineer gave him a nervous look, but seemed to decide that honesty was best, and nodded briefly. "It's part of it. You and I are very different Sunstreaker, you may be a lot younger than me, but in some ways you are far more experienced. Pit, as smart as I am I doubt I'll ever understand you."

Sunstreaker looked puzzled. "What's to understand?" he asked. "I'm a warrior, a brute of a mech with little conscience, and a short temper..."

"And yet every time Jazz tells us our mission is to help out in a fallen city you and Sides jump straight in," Wheeljack interrupted.

"Sides and I couldn't do much in Perihex, I caused more problems than I solved, Sides was too worried about me to help, and neither of us knew where to start anyway."

"Hardly sounds like a mech with no conscience," Wheeljack pointed out. "I don't think you're as sparkless as you would like us to believe." Something glittered dangerously in Sunstreaker's optics, and the engineer wondered if he had over-stepped some mark. "Don't worry I won't tell anyone."

Sunstreaker laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "If it helps you feel better," he said cheerfully. "Shall we see if this works?" Without waiting for Wheeljack to answer he activated the program, and watched in fascination as his armour shimmered, then reversed his colour-scheme. He stepped up to a glass cabinet, which was the closest thing Wheeljack had to a mirror, and inspected the work. "Looks good to me."

"Well if you're pleased with it it must be fine," Wheeljack said cheerfully. "Thank you for your time Sunstreaker."

"Thank you for not turning me pink," Sunstreaker returned genuinely. He hesitated, there was something else he needed to say, even if he didn't particularly want to. "And I'm sorry."

"That must have hurt," Wheeljack said dryly.

"Not as much as I thought it would," Sunstreaker told him, and he smiled to himself as he thought of how pleased Mirage would be with him, although he didn't mention that. "I'd best be going. I'll see you later Wheeljack."

With a nod that seemed to hold far more approval than Sunstreaker had ever expected to get from Wheeljack, the golden twin felt that his punishment was over, and he hurried back to his quarters, hoping that his brother hadn't already worn their lover out.

* * *

><p>A.N: Sorry about the delay, real life has been silly busy. For those of you who are wondering I'll be getting back to Jazz and 'Jack in the next chapter. Hope you liked this one. Take care all. FB.<p> 


	20. Chapter 20

A.N: I'm going to apologise in advance if I butcher any of the Wrecker's characters, I only know of them from what I've been able to find on the Wikis. I never intended to give them more than a passing mention here and there, but then they managed to write themselves into this, and a couple of other chapters. We're moving on a vorn or so here. Hope you enjoy my efforts. Take care now, FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 20<strong>

"The Wreckers' need him more than you!"

Jazz froze at the heated tone he had managed to drive Ultra Magnus to using. The city commander hardly ever raised his voice, but he had never spent half a cycle arguing with Jazz either.

It had all started civilly enough with a polite request for Wheeljack's secondment. Impactor had needed a tech-mech, and he trusted Wheeljack. Jazz had sent back an equally mannered reply saying that he needed the scientist for his own mission. A messenger had been sent next, but Jazz had turned him away.

Ultra Magnus himself had cornered Jazz a little later, and it was at that point that Jazz had realised that the request had been a courtesy, but still an order.

"Very well," Jazz gave in reluctantly, "but I want him back in one piece, and not a moment later than necessary."

"Your concern for your subordinates does you credit," Ultra Magnus complimented him.

_They're my friends,_ Jazz corrected the statement mentally, but he didn't want to contradict his commander aloud. Magnus was a fair mech, and Jazz felt that he had riled him enough for one cycle.

His next move was to head down to Wheeljack's lab. He didn't want to be the one to break the news, he didn't want the engineer to think that he was considered a tool to be loaned or traded, Wheeljack meant far too much to him for that, but it was still his responsibility.

When he arrived he found Wheeljack already packing to leave, and felt both relieved and scared in the same moment, was it so easy for Wheeljack to just walk away?

"I'll be back Jazz," Wheeljack said the moment the door opened. His knack for predicting Jazz's motives was spooky sometimes.

"Do you know where you're going?" Jazz asked, trying not to look surprised, and make it seem as if he was visiting for another reason.

"Home," Wheeljack said grimly.

Jazz was one of the few mechs who knew what that meant. "Kaon." The first city the Decepticons had taken, the seat of Megatron's power, and the last place in the world that most Autobots would wish to go.

"Impactor wanted someone who knew the territory, Roadbuster vouched for me."

"He thinks highly of you, doesn't he?" Jazz asked as casually as he could.

Wheeljack laughed. He seemed to see right through him, again. "If you were any other mech I would say you were jealous, Jazz," he said as he sidled closer, "but you're above such things, aren't you?"

"I have no claim on you 'Jack, either professionally or personally. I am your commander and your friend, I hope I always will be, but I don't hold either of those titles exclusively. If someone needs you more than I do then you should go."

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" Wheeljack sounded amused. "But it isn't like that Jazz. Last time the Wreckers were in Kaon Xantium picked up a few stray transmissions, they're definitely not Decepticon, and might mean that a few Autobots or Neutrals survived the fall of the city. Impactor is willing to take the chance, and I am too. No one needs me to go with them, but I need to go, do you understand now?"

"I do," Jazz said solemnly. "I wish you all the luck in the world 'Jack. Come back safe."

"I'll do my best," Wheeljack promised. "I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

><p>Despite Wheeljack's promises the cycles passed with no news, and Jazz began to worry. More and more often he found himself aboard Steelhaven, not to fly her, he occasionally found himself praying that he would never have to do that again, but to use her long range scanners to boost his ability to listen to the comms in the hope that he would hear something.<p>

Eventually his patience was rewarded. The communication was brief, just a set of co-ordinates and a warning to use caution, but it was in the code that he and Trailbreaker had invented, and Jazz knew that he couldn't hesitate. He called the others down and they were airborne soon after.

The shuttle touched down again well outside the Decepticon capital, and they disembarked to find Wheeljack waiting for them. Jazz greeted him with a smile and a meaningful nod that Wheeljack knew the meaning of instantly.

"Welcome to Kaon," the engineer said grudgingly. "The closest you will get to the Pit in this lifetime, and my former home."

Jazz nodded at the courtesy, before turning his head and shouting back into the shuttle. "'Breaker! Get Steelhaven in the air. We'll comm when we need you."

"Yes sir," Trailbreaker said with a quick grin.

"Lead on 'Jack. Let's get out of sight."

Wheeljack opened what looked like a hastily made hatch, and led them down into the mass of service tunnels that ran under the city. "We've found about thirty mechs and a few femmes living in these tunnels," he reported as they raced along. "Some of them have been down here since the city fell, others joined the Decepticons because they felt they had no choice, and ran when they got the chance. They thought the tunnels would be safe, but then couldn't get out. Can you imagine living down here for half your life?"

"It'd be more than that for me," Jazz admitted. "I was only a youngling when Kaon fell."

"Now I feel old," Wheeljack grumbled good-humouredly. "I bet the twins weren't even sparked."

"I don't remember it," Sideswipe admitted, but for once he didn't push it and start teasing Wheeljack. The barren, neglected feel of the tunnel didn't led itself to telling jokes.

Wheeljack dismissed the thread of the conversation. He led them on for a mega-mile or so, until he turned down a side tunnel, which suddenly opened out into the strangest chamber that Jazz had ever seen.

The space itself was large, almost grand, and had been constructed for a purpose that Jazz couldn't understand, but it had been converted and divided into several smaller compartments built out of scavenged plates, all higher than the tallest mech that Jazz could see, but still well short of the ceiling.

"Introductions first," Wheeljack announced. "Broadside!" he called out, and the tall mech who Jazz had noticed a moment earlier turned and approached them. "Jazz this is Broadside; the leader of the 'bots here. He and a few others have been doing their best to slow the 'Cons down for over thirty vorns. Broad, this is Jazz my unit commander, Hound, Mirage, Sides and Sunny."

"Sunstreaker," the golden twin corrected the engineer. He was far shorter and slighter than the huge mech, but he wasn't about to shy away from him.

Jazz and Broadside shared an amused look, and shook hands warmly. "You'll have to forgive our manners down here," Broadside said genially. Nearly every 'bot in sight had stopped to stare at the newcomers. "The only strangers we've seen down here in vorns have been Decepticons, but you are welcome, and we'll do our best to accommodate you."

"We don't need much," Jazz assured him, before he turned back to Wheeljack, "except for an explanation of why we're here."

"I couldn't risk telling you more than I did," Wheeljack excused himself. "The 'Cons have no idea that these 'bots are here, we need it to stay that way until we're ready to move, and the only way we could see of doing that is with a big diversion. Broadside has a good idea for a target, but the Wreckers don't have enough mechs to do everything without help, and Xantium isn't big enough either."

"We don't have many real fighters here," Broadside picked up. "Whirl and I are the main ones, and I'm too big to fit where you need to go."

"What's the target?" Jazz asked.

"An energon well under the main fortress. The tunnels there are patrolled sometimes, but not often, I think Megatron sets the job as a punishment, and a few well placed charges should cause havoc."

Jazz smiled. "Sounds like my kind of fun. Is there someone who can guide us?"

"Whirl can take you. He and Impactor should be back soon; they went hunting."

"Hunting?" Mirage asked, sounding intrigued.

"Either Decepticons or turbo-rats. Whirl doesn't see the difference between them."

"I think I like him already," the blue and white said approvingly.

"He's easy to like," Broadside said fondly, "but understanding him is a whole other story. He's been down here too long." Mirage smiled as he thought of the challenge, but Jazz spoke again before he could say anything.

"We didn't know you were here," the black and white said by way of an apology. Broadside didn't strike him as the type of mech who would accept sympathy.

"We couldn't risk setting beacons or distress calls randomly. The last group of us that tried were annihilated, but some of our scavengers saw that the Autobots were in Kaon again, and we took a chance. We didn't think they'd noticed, but they came back." He clapped Wheeljack on the shoulder, almost making him stumble. "We're still struggling to believe it."

"Understandable," Jazz gave him.

"There are Whirl and Impactor," Wheeljack said quickly, and he pointed out a small, delicate looking mech, and the familiar, bulky form of the Wrecker's commander, who looked at Jazz and smiled, but not in a very friendly way.

"We meet at last youngling," he said in a condescending tone. He clearly wasn't impressed.

"It's an honour sir," Jazz said respectfully. He was happy to play Impactor's game, but he couldn't wait to prove himself. "I've been looking forward to meeting you and your team."

"I'll have to find the rest of us for you. Rack'n'Ruin a femme to entertain, Topspin is the closest thing any of these 'bots have seen to a proper medic in vorns so he's flat out, and Roadbuster is probably off brooding somewhere; he's good at that."

"He's teaching some of the younger mechs how to defend themselves in case we run into trouble on our way out," Wheeljack murmured.

"Really?" Impactor sounded surprised.

Wheeljack shuffled uncomfortably as Jazz looked at him, and the black and white started wondering just how close Wheeljack was to Roadbuster, who so far Jazz was yet to meet.

"Wreckers!" Impactor roared, and almost everyone in the huge chamber jumped in surprise. Within moments three mechs appeared, or was it four? The last of them was the strangest looking mech that Jazz had ever seen. He was a head taller than Jazz, almost twice as wide, but it was the two heads on his broad shoulders that was completely bizarre. Jazz found himself trying not to stare.

"Rack'n'Ruin," the stocky green mechs introduced themselves.

"Topspin," the white and blue mech next to him said warmly.

The last mech gave Jazz and his unit a long, considering look before he spoke. "Roadbuster." His tone was mild enough, but there was something in his manner that reminded Jazz of Sunstreaker. This was a proud mech, a loyal friend but a ferocious fighter, and probably one with a short temper.

Jazz introduced his own unit quickly and eagerly. He wanted to keep playing the awed, young rookie for a while, at least until he had the measure of each of his new acquaintances. "So what's the plan?" he asked Impactor.

"We'll rest for a while. We know when the Decepticons change their guard, and we'll move in about twenty breems before then, it's the best time to take them by surprise. You, Whirl, and your unit will go under the city and take out an energon reserve, we'll call in the shuttles and run. I'd rather light a fire and watch it burn but there are too many lives at stake to take chances, and I think the 'bots here have been through enough, which is the reason why I asked Wheeljack to bring you in."

Jazz nodded. The compassion in the older mech's tone had improved his opinion of him by a long way. He and Impactor talked for a while longer, but after a few breems Jazz's attention was caught by something he'd never expected to hear in such a miserable place; someone, somewhere was playing music. An almost forgotten pleasure tugged at his spark, and his feet. He excused himself as soon as it was polite to do so, and followed the delightful sound.

It didn't take him long to find the source. Three young mechs, with improvised instruments, were playing a tune that Jazz recognised instantly. No one else seemed to be paying them any attention, but Jazz stood transfixed. He was so caught up that he hardly noticed when he started to hum along, after a breem or so one of the mechs caught his optics, and invited him to join them with a nod.

For the first time in vorns Jazz sang, and the magic of rhythm filled him with joy. He soon noticed that the mechs and femmes around him seemed more cheerful, they moved with the beat, even if they didn't have time to stop and listen, and smiled when their optics met.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sidled up, and slowly a crowd formed behind them. Jazz flashed Sideswipe a smile; he'd forgotten that the red twin had once been a fan of his, seeing him sing again had probably made his cycle. He caught Sideswipe's hand and pulled him into a dance without missing a word. It felt so good to just do something for the fun of it again.

The rest of the small crowd responded exactly as he had hoped, in pairs and small groups a good number of them began to dance too. The end result felt like a street party; most of the Kaon 'bots left their tasks and joined in, and even some of the Wreckers stood and clapped in time.

The sight of so many 'bots, many of whom had suffered greatly, having such a good time warmed Jazz's spark, thrilled him and made him feel wonderful.

Eventually everyone around him seemed to decide that it was time for some much needed recharge, Jazz had no doubt that the following cycle wouldn't be easy on any of them and headed off to find somewhere he could power-down for a while.


	21. Chapter 21

**Part 21**

"That was quite a show you put on last night," Roadbuster greeted Jazz, early the following cycle. The whole chamber was buzzing with excitement and nerves, mechs and femmes were rushing everywhere as they packed up their meagre belongings, but the Wrecker seemed determined to talk to him.

"I just hope it was enough," Jazz said as he unspaced an energon ration, and pulled the other mech aside, so that they weren't barged out of the way. "These 'bots have lived in fear for too long, in cycle or so they'll be free, but I doubt many of them can remember what that means, and they need to, it'll get them through the worst of times."

"Do you think it will be that hard to get them out of here?" Roadbuster had more experience, that was a given, but Jazz didn't like how flippant he sounded.

"It'll only take one Seeker to use his optics properly, and you'll have a real fight on your hands," Jazz said seriously, "but more than that, these 'bots will have huge changes in their lives to adjust to, and that won't be easy either."

"So you thought you'd show them a good time?"

"I didn't plan it, it just happened, but yeah. If it helps them deal with what's ahead in some small way then I'm happy, but it must be about time to get the real show going, right?"

"Whirl's ready to go when you are." Roadbuster's tone almost passed as friendly. "Keep an optic on that mech, he's got a few bolts loose in my opinion."

"He should fit in with my lot just fine then," Jazz said cheerfully as he moved along, but his high-spirits took a nose-dive only a few astro-seconds later, when he saw Wheeljack moving towards him, and more importantly away from Whirl.

"You're not coming with us, are you?" he asked. He already new the answer, but he hoped he was wrong.

Wheeljack shook his head. "I have to go my own way on this one."

Jazz was disappointed, and he couldn't hide it. It was selfish he knew, for as long as they had been working together he had seen Wheeljack as something of a lucky charm, and he didn't like the idea of finishing a mission without the engineer for that and other, more personal, reasons. "Is there any way I can change your processor?" he asked hopefully.

"Don't ask me that Jazz," Wheeljack said sternly. "I've stood at your shoulder through everything, I've helped you all I can, and I will do again once we're out of here, but I need to see these mechs and femmes get out of here with my own optics."

Jazz was tempted to remind the engineer who his commander was, but although he managed to stop himself Wheeljack seemed to read his thoughts. "How dare you?" he snarled. "I've given you everything I had to give, done all you've asked. I'd give you my spark if I thought for a moment that you wanted it."

The engineer was close to shouting by this time, and Jazz couldn't help noticing that nearly every 'bot in the area had stopped what they were doing to watch, but what made his circuits burn was Roadbuster, who was stood off to one side and smirking. "This is because of him."

"I thought you knew me," Wheeljack raged, "But I guess that you wouldn't think that I might ask for something for myself because I never have before. This isn't about him, or you for once, but me. I need to do this because when Kaon fell there was nothing I could do but mourn."

Jazz flinched at the agony in Wheeljack's tone. He remembered the pain of his own loses far too well, and he felt awful for not considering how Wheeljack had been through the same thing. Wheeljack stormed off before he could think of anything to say.

With a heavy spark Jazz forced himself to keep walking. He wanted to turn and run after Wheeljack, to beg him for forgiveness, but he was sure that the engineer would be too furious to listen to him, and he had no idea how to even begin apologising. Thankfully none of the others said anything as he led them off. Mirage was the only one of them that even looked at him.

"Do you want to do this with or without trouble?" Whirl asked, once they were clear of the living chamber.

"Preferably without," Jazz answered, much to the disappointment of the twins, and Whirl himself unless Jazz was reading him wrong, but the mech's facial expression didn't change.

"I was looking forward to saying goodbye," Whirl admitted after a moment. "But I guess a firework show is a good way to do it. Do you have a scout?"

"Technically I have two, both have their own specialities. Mirage, you're up. Hound, scanners."

Mirage strode forward, and Whirl shot him a smile. "Wheeljack told me that you haven't been with the unit long," he said conversationally.

"A little over a vorn now," Mirage said politely. "They rescued me when Crystal City fell, I realised that the life I had known was gone, so I asked Jazz for a chance to help him. It was probably one of the best decisions that I've ever made."

"Impactor has asked me and Broadside to join the Wreckers. He says that surviving for so long under an occupied city, and managing to cause the 'Cons more than a few problems without them even realising we're here are ample qualifications, but the idea of working with mechs I barely know scares me. It's been vorns since I met someone new."

"I had a sheltered life before I joined up. My creators provided everything I ever needed, and rarely let me out of their sight, especially after one of their friends told them that I'd been fooling around with a gladiator from the Vos arena."

Whirl laughed. "How the other half live," he muttered. "Do you know where he is now?"

"About twenty paces behind us," Mirage said with a smirk. As he'd expected Whirl almost swallowed his vocaliser in surprise. He'd seen the sideways glances that many of the Kaon 'bots had been giving the twins, but he couldn't blame them. "I honestly believe that fate brought us back together once my creators were gone, I doubt I would have made it through my loses without them."

Whirl looked puzzled; he was obviously trying to work out which _them_ Mirage was talking about, and Mirage smiled to himself. He was rather enjoying his chat with Whirl, it was interesting to meet someone so uncultured.

"This is my favourite part," Whirl announced suddenly. "The tunnel ahead of us is blocked, and we have to go up, just for half a breem or so I get to see the sky."

"You'll be getting to see a lot more of it soon," Mirage reminded him.

"I know," Whirl said regretfully, "but then I won't appreciate it as much."

_He's not scared of the freedom that he's about to regain,_ Mirage realised, _he'd just concerned that he won't enjoy it. How strange... and refreshing to meet someone so aware of the simple things that make life worthwhile._

Cautiously the two mechs pushed up the heavy service hatch, and peered out. There was no one in sight, and Mirage was surprised to see that it was still dark. He had his chronometer, knew it was working, but time had become meaningless in the tunnels. He wondered if Whirl was even aware of how long he had lived there.

Whirl went first, stretching and gazing up at the stars for a moment before he shook himself, and reached down to pull Mirage up. "Keep low," he instructed. "Our way back down is at the top of that rise, and the city starts just below it." They crept up the small incline, and Jazz joined them at the top a few moments later. "There's our target," Whirl pointed out a slim tower with a domed top. "The energon well is directly below it."

"I remember," Jazz nodded. "It's been a long time, but it doesn't look like it's changed much. Apart from that monstrosity," he pointed out a building that dominated the skyline, and that he knew must be the Decepticon Headquarters.

"One of my favourite bars is somewhere under it," Whirl lamented. "I used to dream that I'd get to blow it up one cycle, and then I'd rebuild the old place."

"I'll help you," Jazz offered genuinely, "but it's not our target this time. Ready?"

"Always," Whirl grinned, and they crawled off to the hatch that would take them back down into the tunnel. Jazz gestured for Sideswipe and Hound to wait for them there to keep their escape route clear. Mirage activated his invisibility cloak, and moved ahead, only waiting for them at intersections. Sunstreaker kept a few paces behind Jazz and Whirl as they moved on.

"That's weird," Whirl muttered, as he stared at the place where Mirage had been.

"It takes some getting used to," Jazz admitted. "I think it still freaks Wheeljack out. 'Jack's probably the smartest mech I know, but he can't figure out how it works, and that bugs him. It's useful though."

"I bet," Whirl muttered, "just imagine all the places you could get into if no one could see you."

"He can't hide from everyone," Jazz tapped his visor. "I can see him, Hound's scanners can pick him up, and we're still testing Decepticons to find out which of them can track him, but there aren't many," he smiled suddenly, "Primus knows what Mirage gets up to though, I know for a fact that he likes to watch."

Whirl stifled a laugh. "I hope he wasn't watching Broad and I last night."

"Who knows?" Jazz teased him. "Was it worth watching?"

"It was worth missing out on the recharge for," Whirl grinned, "but as to the other I have no idea. Precious little of what we've had these vorns is private, we've guarded our time together as best we could."

"I can understand that," Jazz nodded. He had after all taken the same route with Wheeljack. "Do you love him?" he asked curiously.

"With all that I am," came the honest answer. "I only hope that our love will survive out in the world. With so many new faces out there to catch his optics he may not want to look at mine anymore."

"The two of you have been through so much together that I doubt a pretty face would turn his head," Jazz assured him, "and you can take it from me that there are few enough good mechs out there."

Whirl seemed satisfied with Jazz's words of comfort, and looked around. "We're almost there," he said quietly.

"There are two guards ahead of us," Mirage's disembodied voice reported in a hushed tone.

"My turn?" Sunstreaker asked. Jazz nodded, and the golden twin extended a hand, which Mirage's invisible one took to lead him off.

For a moment there was silence, then a dull thud, a muffled cry that was cut off quickly, and a blue hand appeared around the corner to beckon them onwards. Jazz didn't even give the fallen Decepticons a glance as he strode past them. He had no time for mechs that could do no harm. It was almost time for the Kaon mechs to make their escape, and without his diversion he was sure that they would be caught.

The tunnel widened out to become a small chamber. Four thick pipes ran through the room carrying energon to the reserve above them. Jazz unspaced a small supply of explosives, and passed them around. They set the charges on their commander's mark, and Jazz grinned mischievously. "Run," he ordered.

They ran with Mirage a little ahead, and Sunstreaker at the rear. They collected Sideswipe and Hound at the hatch, and were relived to find their escape route clear. The ground shook violently just after they dropped down into the second tunnel.

"Hound!" Jazz barked, and the green mech took the lead without further instruction. For a while he kept them on the path back to the large chamber, then he veered off. There was a rumble ahead, the ceiling fell in, but Hound didn't slow down. As they reached the gap they all became aware of the familiar hum of Steelhaven's engines.

Broadside grinned down at them, and Hound boosted each of them up to catch hold of his strong hands and be pulled clear, until only Sideswipe remained. The red twin heaved Hound up as high as he could, and as Broadside hauled him out the Sideswipe activated his jet-pack and flew to safety.

Steelhaven was waiting for them. Broadside and Whirl were the last to board and they hung back as she rose back into the air. The larger mech held the smaller close to him as they watched the fire burn in the centre of the city.

They could see Seekers swarming around the blaze; Some were using chemicals to extinguish the flames, others blasted down nearby buildings so that the fire couldn't spread to them.

Jazz looked around Steelhaven's hold to see many of the other Kaon 'bots were also watching the scene below them, some looked solemn, others cheerful, most appeared relieved. Their ordeal was over, and Jazz was proud to have been able to help them, but he couldn't relax. His mission was almost done, but he wondered if the hardest part of it for him would be his return to Nova Cronum.

A.N: the response to the last couple of chapters has been amazing, I'm so thrilled that you're enjoying this story. Thank you so much, take care all, FB.


	22. Chapter 22

A.N: After reading the reviews for the last chapter I feel as if I'm letting my readers down with this one, it's my fault I think, I should have made it clear from the start that this story isn't a Transformers Prime story, and this story is marked as G1. I'm sorry for any confusion, but Wheeljack will not be joining the Wreckers, he's just been helping them out for a while, and now it's time for you to find out what happens next. I hope I don't disappoint anyone. Take care, FB.

**Part 22 **

Towards the end of their flight Jazz entered the helm cabin, and slumped into the spare seat. He'd heard so many spark-breaking stories from the refugees that he was starting to wonder if he would ever feel happy again. He was emotionally exhausted, but he was a long way off done, and needed a few breems to collect himself before they landed in Nova Cronum.

"Hound tells me that you and 'Jack had a bit of a row back in Kaon, anything you want to talk about?" Trailbreaker said after a brief silence. Their long friendship meant that the black mech was always one of the first to know when Jazz had a problem.

"I can tell you that it was my fault," Jazz grunted. Trailbreaker was a romantic, a lot like Wheeljack himself. They both believed that love won out whatever happened, but Jazz didn't, couldn't share their belief. "I could lose him. I've known from the start that he would leave me eventually, but I'm not ready for that yet."

Trailbreaker gave him a puzzled look, but Jazz had always had a knack for predicting relationships. "Apologise, Jazz," he advised. "Get down on your knees if you have to, but remember it took both of you to have that argument, he has to share the blame."

"I've been taking him for granted," Jazz confessed.

"And he's been letting you," the black mech countered. Trailbreaker had always believed that both lovers were responsible for everything that happened between them. "Talk to him, don't just 'face him senseless and assume that everything's okay."

Jazz nodded, but one last doubt remained. "What do I do if he's not there?"

For a moment Trailbreaker concentrated on the helm, he needed to buy himself some time to think, if Wheeljack was gone then that was his choice, and only time would show whether or not it was the right one. "Whatever the outcome the two of you need to talk," he said diplomatically.

The black and white nodded again, and watched the fortified city he called home grow larger. His spark seemed to pulse double-time, faster than it had right through the mission. He hadn't been scared then.

Trailbreaker landed the shuttle with his usual precession a few breems later, and started on his post-flight checks without a word. Jazz didn't want to interrupt him, and he knew there wasn't much he could say, but he still rested his hand in the black mechs shoulder. A silent gesture of thanks and appreciation, which he knew was far less than Trailbreaker deserved.

Jazz dropped into his alt-mode the moment he disembarked and raced into the city. He tried the labs first, as they were closest, and pure fear gripped him when he discovered that Wheeljack wasn't there._ Please, don't be gone,_ he prayed as he keyed in the code for Wheeljack's room, and sagged against it's frame in relief when he saw Wheeljack tinkering with something at a bench.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said softly as he pulled himself upright, "I'm so sorry."

Wheeljack put down what ever it was he was working on, and picked his way through the mess. "It wasn't your fault," he said timidly. He was clearly agitated, perhaps even scared, and Jazz had only seen him in such a state a handful of times. "Most of what you said was right, I just didn't want you to be."

Jazz was dumbfounded. He wasn't sure if he dared to believe what he was hearing, he had been so sure that the whole mess was his fault, but he couldn't blame Wheeljack for everything. _We_ _have problems, which means _we _have to sort them out. Primus, but I'm starting to think like 'Breaker._ "'Jack," he whispered. He wasn't sure yet what he was going to say, but he hoped it would come to him.

"Let me finish Jazz," Wheeljack pleaded. "If I don't get all this out now I'll loose my nerve. You were right when you said that Roadbuster was involved. He told me that he liked me, that we could have some fun together, and I thought 'why not?' Why shouldn't I have something for myself?" his voice shook and Jazz took his hands in the hope that it would help steady him. "There was a problem with Roadbuster though, one flaw that I just couldn't accept. He's handsome, charming, and much more... but he's not you."

"'Jack," Jazz murmured again.

"I know. Our deal was that I'd ask for nothing, that our arrangement would be on your terms, but honestly I never thought we'd last this long. I thought you'd get bored of me, or that it wouldn't work, but it does Jazz. You're the only one that doesn't see it."

"I'm not what you need 'Jack," Jazz said firmly. He had understood from the start that Wheeljack needed someone who would eventually bond him, someone he could depend on, and Jazz knew he wasn't that mech.

"Long term maybe not," Wheeljack admitted, "but for now, why shouldn't we?"

_I can't lose him yet, _Jazz realised with a finality that seemed to sap the last of his energy. _I'm not strong enough to survive without him. Primus what a mess!_ "What do you want from me?" he asked. He hoped that he didn't sound as tired as he felt; he didn't want to give Wheeljack the impression that he was bored.

Wheeljack seemed to read him perfectly, snatched up half a canister of energon from his work-bench, and pressed it into Jazz's hands as he spoke. "Just some kind of assurance that when the mission's over you'll come to me, I don't want to spend all my down time waiting for you anymore, and I'd like to be able to approach you. It's not fair that you're the one who says what we do and when. I just want some control Jazz."

For a moment Jazz just looked at Wheeljack over the edge of the container as he drank, and felt the liquid energy revitalise him. The engineer started to worry that he had asked for too much, that maybe it sounded too much like a proper relationship, but just as his doubts reached their peak Jazz smiled. "From now on when we get back from a mission, and once the de-brief is done, I'll come to you, and we can decide what we want to do; whether or not we want to spend some or all of our down-time together, stay in, go out..."

"You mean in public?" Wheeljack interrupted. He hadn't expected this much. Jazz had always kept their relationship strictly between the two of them.

"Well, I don't expect you to molest me in the rec room, but I'd be okay with holding hands," Jazz said playfully. He didn't want to belittle the seriousness of the situation, but he needed to lighten the mood, and Wheeljack had always admired the spark of mischief that he used to make his life bearable. "But the control thing could be a problem," he added coyly, and Wheeljack noticed that the black and white's body language had changed completely. Jazz's uncertainty and concern were simply gone, and they had been replaced by the sensual, dominant attitude that usually landed Wheeljack on his back a few moments later.

"You're not willing to compromise?" Wheeljack asked as his engine gave an involuntary rev. Despite his earlier determination he had to admit that Jazz was extremely desirable.

"There is one way," Jazz teased him, as he casually tossed away the empty energon container. He ran his fingers along Wheeljack's hip seam and gave him a predatory look. "If you want control you're going to have to take it."

Wheeljack almost swallowed his vocaliser in shock. The only time Jazz had ever let Wheeljack have any real control during their interfacing was when Jazz's firewalls had crashed in Praxus, it had been a processor-jarring experience for both of them, and neither of them wanted to go through that again.

"You're sure?" Wheeljack asked.

"No," Jazz admitted, "but I trust you." He pulled Wheeljack closer, and started to nibble his way up the cables of his neck. "I wouldn't wait too long if I was you." He pushed in a little, rocking Wheeljack back on his heals and letting the engineer know that fairly soon he would be taking his usual, submissive role.

_Primus,_Wheeljack thought, _how does he do that?_ He couldn't come up with an answer. Jazz was so simple in some ways, but also utterly incomprehensible in others. Wheeljack gave Jazz an experimental shove.

"You'll have to do better than that," Jazz teased.

"That was just a test," Wheeljack informed him. He now knew exactly where Jazz's centre of balance was. He kissed the saboteur fiercely, pressed his fingers into his armour seams, and wriggled them gently, slowly prying the plates apart and stroking the wires beneath.

Jazz moaned softly, but he had already done the same to Wheeljack's hip seams, and his own fingers could move freely against the cables they had found. He still seemed to think that he was in control, but Wheeljack had a plan. He waited for a breem or so, gave Jazz time to start enjoying himself and stop thinking of their competition, then abruptly lifted Jazz and landed him gently across a work-bench.

From there it was easy. The sensation of having Jazz pinned beneath him was enough to bring his energy-field up without even having to access the program. Everything was instinct and something that Wheeljack had thought impossibly complexed for so long suddenly became brilliantly simple. He was in charge, Jazz wasn't and it felt wonderful, which gave Wheeljack the confidence and control he had longed for.

Wheeljack reached down and ran his hand over the panel that protected Jazz's interface port. It slid open at his touch, their optics met and Wheeljack saw that Jazz wanted it too, his visor had retracted and his golden optics were pleading, not asking him to stop, but begging him to keep going. The sight ranked high on the list of most erotic things that Wheeljack had ever seen.

"Is this what you want?" Wheeljack asked as his finger grazed across Jazz's port. "Or would you prefer this?" He pushed gently, and his finger slid inside up to the first joint.

"I never knew that you were such a tease," Jazz rasped. His systems were so focused on sensations that it was actually hard for him to speak. "You know what I want."

"Say it," Wheeljack commanded. "Tell me that you want to feel me in your circuits."

"I want you in so far that I won't know where you end and I begin."

Wheeljack kissed him, and connected his interface cable. He forced every desire, every fantasy across the connection, flooded the link with lust.

He felt something change and realised that Jazz's firewalls were collapsing. He froze, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of the emotional turmoil they had experienced in Praxus.

"I thought you wanted commitment," Jazz said in a low, sultry tone, and Wheeljack realised that this time the access that Jazz was giving him was deliberate. "I don't have anything else. The only thing I can give you is myself. I let you in willingly, now take what you want."

For a while Wheeljack explored the new sensations of being truly able to feel his lover, rather than what Jazz projected for him to feel. He could sense everything; emotion, thoughts, inner workings, sensory-information, and much more.

Their systems fell into sync fast enough to put a strain on both of their processors. After sending out a few cautious pings to see how Jazz would react Wheeljack settled his attention on Jazz's sensory-net and emotional programming, kept well away from the memory files, and watched Jazz writhe in pleasure.

"You're amazing. That feels..." Jazz's voice cracked with static. He was right on the edge of overload, and Wheeljack knew that when Jazz went he would be right behind him. "Oh 'Jack, 'Jack I..."

Wheeljack pushed one last data-stream; a blend of sensor-ghosts and how Jazz's current state was effecting him, and followed it with a kiss. Jazz moaned loudly into his mouth and overloaded violently. His whole body bucked against Wheeljack and with their systems so deeply entwined Wheeljack's reaction was inevitable.

It seemed to take forever for Wheeljack to get his thought processes back to something resembling coherent. Jazz was still beneath him, and not doing any better than Wheeljack; despite being sprawled across a work-bench he was showing no sign of wanting to move, but Wheeljack knew that Jazz needed some proper recharge, and their current position was not conducive to that.

"Come on dear-spark," Wheeljack murmured as he hauled himself upright. His legs threatened to collapse from under him, but he managed to steady himself and pulled Jazz up. The few steps to the berth weren't easy, especially as Jazz kept giggling helplessly when they stumbled. "I haven't felt like this in vorns," he confessed.

"I don't think I've ever felt like this," Wheeljack responded. "It's kinda like being over-charged. The floor doesn't seem to be where I think it will be."

They made it to the berth. Their landing was less than graceful, and Jazz laughed again at how out of it they still were. As soon as they were comfortable Wheeljack let recharge claim him, and the next thing he knew it was time for him to come back online again.

* * *

><p>Jazz was gone, but his side of the berth was still warm. Wheeljack was disappointed. Jazz was always gone, and the next time Wheeljack would see him he would be all smiles and grateful. Wheeljack wondered if he could stand that again, surely he should be used to it, but he had honestly believed that things had changed.<p>

The door opened, Jazz walked in with two energon cubs and a huge grin. "Morning dear-spark, I thought you could use this." he sat down on the edge of the berth.

"Thank you," Wheeljack murmured.

"What's wrong?" Jazz asked softly.

"I thought you were gone," Wheeljack admitted, "like you usually are."

"I just needed some energon, and I thought... well, isn't that what 'bots who are in relationships do for each other?" He looked so bewildered that Wheeljack almost laughed at him.

"I'm sorry," Wheeljack apologised. "I guess this is just going to take some getting used to. Not everyone adapts at light-speed like you."

Jazz chuckled. "It's not that easy. It's taken me vorns to get this far." He bent over and kissed Wheeljack. "But I'm here now, and happy."

Wheeljack drank down his energon in one long swallow, grabbed Jazz by the waist and flipped him neatly onto his back.

"I could get used to you being like this," the black and white said calmly, but they were his last coherent words for some time.


	23. Chapter 23

**Part 23**

Still dusting themselves off, and trying to get ash out of their intakes, Jazz and his unit disembarked their shuttle, despite the dings, scratches and dirt they were in high-spirits, their latest mission had been a roaring success.

They had destroyed one of Megatron's outposts that could have been used as a staging-post for attacks on Helix, the explosion had been spectacular in Jazz's opinion, and as a bonus they had also managed to acquire a fair amount of information, largely thanks to Mirage's cunning. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had handled the few Decepticons that had been posted as guards, and just for a novelty no one had been hurt.

With the relief and satisfaction that came at the end of a successful mission Jazz was on a high, he and Sideswipe had started trading jokes and tall-tales on their journey home and saw no reason to stop just because they had landed, and the seven mechs made their way rather noisily though the hanger in a tight bunch.

It was Mirage who first noticed that something wasn't right. It was too quiet, hardly any of the support mechs that kept the hanger running were around, and the few present, who were usually quite a rabble themselves, were working in near silence.

As he met Mirage's optics Jazz caught the rather odd mood around them, and trailed off mid-sentence.

The others looked round in concern, half expecting to find Ultra Magnus glaring at them disapprovingly, but the city commander was nowhere in sight, and their worry dissolved into confusion.

Jazz caught the attention of the nearest support 'bot. "What's going on my mech?" he asked without preamble.

The mech looked at him wearily. "The Senate was attacked two cycles ago. No one's telling us much, but even I know that Sentinel Prime was killed."

Jazz was staggered. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, the fact that such a thing could happen in Iacon of all places was incomprehensible.

"Primus," Mirage whispered, "what happens now?"

"Ultra Magnus might know," the mech suggested, "But I'm just a hanger-grunt."

"You're still here and doing what you can," Jazz said supportively, "that's all anyone can ask."

The mech attempted a smile for Jazz's kind words and went back to his work. The seven friends continued on their way.

No one spoke, they barely even looked at each other, but they didn't pull apart either. Jazz quickly noticed the opposite; Hound and Trailbreaker moved to walk hand-in-hand as they left the hanger, during the turbo-lift ride that took them to their quarters Sideswipe slipped an arm around Mirage and Sunstreaker took up a position close behind them, and Jazz found Wheeljack at his side as they stepped out of it, they didn't touch but he found the proximity comforting.

"It's a shame there's no high-grade in this city," Mirage muttered regretfully. "I could use some about now."

"Seconded," Sideswipe agreed. "If we spent more time here I could probably find a supplier, or even make some, but..." he trailed off forlornly.

Jazz and Wheeljack traded glances. "I'll see what I can do," Wheeljack said quickly. "why don't you wait in my room, and I'll be back in a few breems."

As Wheeljack jogged off Jazz led the rest of his unit down another corridor.

"Why Wheeljack's room?" Mirage asked.

"As a scientist he gets more space than the rest of us," Jazz answered, "for tinkering and storage, nothing explosive," he added quickly as he entered the code and stepped inside.

"I've never been in here before," Sideswipe murmured as he looked around uneasily.

"'Jack's kinda private," Jazz reminded him. "Okay, we're going to need a table and some chairs. There should be enough to go round under all the mess."

Despite Jazz's reassurances he was the only one of the six mechs who didn't move around the quarters gingerly.

By the time Wheeljack returned one of his work-benches had been moved up beside the berth and surrounded by chairs on the other sides.

Solemnly he poured out a measure of high-grade for each mech and gave the smallest of them to Jazz, who held it aloft until everyone had theirs. "We drink this in memory of Sentinel Prime. A strong leader, an advocate of peace and a good mech."

They drank their toast down, and Mirage looked curiously at Jazz. "You spoke as if you knew him."

"I met him once," Jazz answered, "we spoke for less than a breem, but I've always considered myself to be a good judge of character."

"I think you got the measure of him," Mirage said with a rare warm smile.

"That was thoughtless of me," Jazz realised. "You must have known him, I should have let you say your piece."

"I don't think I could have put it any better," Mirage said graciously. "But yes, I knew him. My creator was the governor of Crystal City, and Sentinel visited regularly."

For a while they listened to Mirage's stories, but as the high-grade began to take effect the gathering degenerated into a friendly night of gambling. They had all learned the hard way that playing for credits with Jazz, or Mirage, was expensive.

Jazz didn't have any more high-grade once his toast had been made. He had never trusted the stuff. For a while he felt more alert than usual, his heightened senses amused him as he noticed the fleeting glances Mirage and Sideswipe exchanged when they thought no one was watching, and the way that Hound and Trailbreaker slowly moved together now that they were safely back in Nova Cronum.

The clarity of his processor didn't last long, it never did, and exhaustion stole over him all too soon. He fought it as best he could, but short of drinking more high-grade, which would only prolong the inevitable, there wasn't anything he could do. Grudgingly he surrendered, slumping slowly so as to avoid attention, he allowed himself to first lean on the table and then lie with his head on his arm. He let the conversation wash over him, and wondered if they would notice if he recharged for a few breems.

"He really can't handle his high-grade, can he?"

_Trust Mirage to catch me out,_ Jazz thought. He tried to rouse himself, but the comforting warmth of Wheeljack's hand on his back stopped him.

"No, he can't," Wheeljack said fondly. "I think it's a creation defect. His systems don't respond to it the same way ours do. High-grade burns faster, cleaner than regular energon, and usually our systems ease off as a result leaving us feeling relaxed. Jazz's don't; they try to keep up. He gets restless for a while, but once the high-grade's burned off he's left with nothing. Especially if he didn't have much in his tanks to start with."

Trailbreaker chuckled. "It took me ten vorns to work all that out, how long did it take you?"

"About three breems once I'd actually seen him drink the stuff." Wheeljack answered. "Somewhere around half a percent of Cybertronians suffer similar problems, a friend of mine from way back was one of them."

Trailbreaker nodded and for some reason Wheeljack felt that the nod was approving, but the big mech didn't say anything. Wheeljack was glad that although everyone now knew he and Jazz shared a berth fairly regularly, no one was making a fuss about it anymore.

Eventually the rest of the unit decided that it was time to call it a night and began to drift away. Before he left Hound turned to Wheeljack. "What do you want us to do with him?" he asked with a nod to Jazz. "'Breaker and I can take him to his quarters."

"May as well leave him," Wheeljack said casually. "He's had a long few cycles, his tanks are about empty and he'll need a little help to get moving in the morning. I'll make sure he gets it. Make the most of your down time, I doubt we'll be here for long."

Once the others were gone Wheeljack laid Jazz down on the berth, moved the table out of the way and knocked off the lights, and it wasn't until then that he realised that Jazz's visor was still glowing faintly.

"You should rest," Wheeljack said softly.

"I should be reporting to Magnus," Jazz pointed out.

"Without belittling what we just did Magnus has more important things on his processor," Wheeljack retorted, "he and the other governors are probably choosing a new Prime right now. Your report can wait until the morning."

"I should..." Jazz began again.

"Rest!" Wheeljack snapped. "There's nothing more you can do. It's late, you're exhausted, and you're staying here. No one should be alone tonight. Hound and 'Breaker will take care of each other, Mirage has Sides, and unless I miss my guess Sunstreaker too. By default you're stuck with me, but I'll do my best," he finished as he gently pushed a ration of low-grade into Jazz's hands. "Drink and rest." he repeated before he lay down at his side.

Wheeljack tugged Jazz gently into his arms, and as so many times before their proximity made them both feel more secure. Jazz only spoke to thank Wheeljack for his consideration, but the engineer was deep in recharge by that time, and the saboteur's words went unheard.

* * *

><p>Wearily, Jazz opened the door after it chimed for the second time, and was surprised to find an exhausted and rather exasperated looking Ultra Magnus on the other side of it. "Don't any of your unit recharge in the quarters they were assigned to?" he asked instead of a greeting.<p>

"Sometimes," Jazz said casually. "What can I do for you Magnus?"

"I have this for you," Ultra Magnus said curtly, and he handed over a data-pad. "I know you won't like it, you can contest it if you wish, but the mech who sent it is adamant, and as of late last cycle is second in command of the Autobots, so arguing with him won't do any good."

Jazz looked down at the data-pad and saw that it was a requisition form. His features tightened in anger, but Ultra Magnus forestalled any argument with a stern look. "I tried it all Jazz, and I am sorry, but it's happening whether you like it or not." and with that he turned away, Jazz found himself hoping that Ultra Magnus was going to his berth; he definitely looked as if he needed the recharge, but Jazz doubted that his work was done.

"What's happening?" Wheeljack asked suspiciously from behind him.

Jazz opened his comms. "Everyone to Wheeljack's quarters," he ordered as he handed the pad over to Wheeljack, who glanced at it and groaned.

"This won't go down well," the engineer said gravely.

"I know," Jazz agreed as he moved back to the door.

"What's going on?" Sideswipe asked, as he led the others in.

"We've had some news from Iacon," Jazz explained as they took their seats. "There's a new Prime, named Optimus, and new officers. One of which has been in touch with a requisition."

"What do we have that he could want?" Sunstreaker asked irritably. "We've got a grand total of nothing between us."

"One of us has skills, talents that he wants to use," Jazz said evasively. The last thing he wanted to do was tell his unit that one of them was leaving, but he knew that sparing himself would make it worse for the others. "This mech...," he paused to check the data-pad, "Prowl, thinks that there may be a Decepticon in Iacon, that he is responsible for Sentinel's death, and that Mirage has the necessary abilities to help catch him."

"What!?" Mirage said with an uncharacteristic display of shock and displeasure. "What do I know about catching spies and assassins?"

"It says here that every report you've ever filed has included personality profiles on our enemies and allies, he says that they were insightful, comprehensive, and helpful. The mech sounds like a pompous fool, who's trying to make himself look good for the Prime, but when Magnus gave me this he told me not to argue. I'm afraid we're under orders."

"But Mirage belongs here," Sideswipe protested.

"It's a temporary assignment," Jazz said firmly. "He'll be back, but he does have to go."

"How long for?" Sunstreaker asked. There was no emotion in his voice, and that worried Jazz more than anything. In his opinion Mirage had been a good influence on the golden warrior; he had become more relaxed, occasionally civil, Wheeljack had even commented that he had heard Sunstreaker say 'please' and 'thank you' a few times. He wasn't sure if the better behaviour would remain if Mirage left.

"That depends on his success, but I'd guess quarter of a vorn, maybe a little more," Jazz estimated.

"Then no," Sunstreaker said flatly.

"It's not your decision," Mirage reminded him. "It's not mine either. I wish I could stay, but orders are orders, and this Prowl has a much higher authority than any other mech we know. Not even Ultra Magnus can defy him."

"And you and Sides could still go and visit," Jazz chipped in. "Think about it Sunstreaker. You'd get to spend your leave cycles in Iacon."

"It's not enough," Sunstreaker said petulantly.

"Sunstreaker," Jazz said patiently. "For the last few vorns I've led you as best I can, and I've asked as little of you as I've been able, but this," he held up the data-pad again. "Is out of my hands. I'll send a message with Mirage to his new C.O that I want him back as soon as possible, but that's all I can do."

"There's high-grade in the capital," Sideswipe put in. "Think about it Sunny, Mirage doesn't belong here, he needs culture, intrigue, the occasional indulgence. The only reason he came here is because of us, maybe its time to think about him."

"I haven't been unhappy here," Mirage stated, "but..."

Sunstreaker snarled quietly, and raised his hands as a sign that he had given up. He wasn't about to say it though, he would never admit that his twin, and his lover, were probably right.

Jazz couldn't help feeling relieved. It was bad enough that his unit were going their separate ways for a while, but to force it upon them would have been far worse. "Thank you for your time gentlemechs," he said quietly. "Mirage, report to me when you're ready to leave. Sunny, Sides, I'll give you five cycles in Iacon to help him settle in, but I want you back here on the sixth, no arguments. understood?"

The three mechs nodded, and he dismissed them.

"It'll be alright Jazz," Wheeljack assured him once they were alone again.

"I know," the black and white said grimly. "The twins won't like me much for a while, but I'm hoping that they'll realise soon enough that going to Iacon will probably save Mirage's life. He was never built to withstand the abuse that we go through."

_Neither were you,_ Wheeljack thought, but he was fairly sure that Jazz would never forgive him for actually saying such a thing.

Jazz checked-off the requisition form, and tossed it onto a work-bench to await Mirage's return. He didn't want to look at it; the relief it caused made him feel guilty, and he wasn't sure if he should be angry with Prowl, or grateful to him. _How can a mech I've never even met tie me in knots like this,_ he wondered.


	24. Chapter 24

A.N: Sorry about the delay on this chapter, I got serious writer's block on the ending, the last few paragraphs have taken me days, and I don't think I'll ever be completely happy with them, but I have to move on. Enjoy, FB.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 24<strong>

The flickering light of the holo-table illuminated five other concerned faces, as Jazz laid out their latest target. Well, Hound, Trailbreaker and Wheeljack looked worried, and the twins looked indifferent, but Jazz was also bothered by their task, and the majority ruled.

He nodded to Wheeljack, and leant back as the engineer leapt into a brief explanation of the technical aids he had come up with in the three cycles Jazz had given him to prepare for their mission, and one that he was still working on. Everything had been done in a rush, but they couldn't wait any longer, and Wheeljack was positive that it would be ready before it was needed. They hadn't had much prep time, a message had come in that Tagon was under threat of invasion, and they had moved as quickly as they could. Tagon itself was small, almost insignificant compared to the great cities, but it was close to Iacon.

Seeing the mech who Jazz thought of as his 'occasional' lover, rather than the 'facing partner he had been for the first few vorns of their relationship, so confident had a slightly distracting effect on Jazz. It reminded him of the night before, and a few other occasions, when Wheeljack had truly taken control of the situation.

He smiled as he met Wheeljack's optics. He hoped that he looked encouraging, but the true meaning behind it was bitter-sweet. Deep in his spark he knew that their time together was ending. They had shared some amazing times, and cared for each other deeply, but it wasn't love, not the right kind anyway.

To his credit Wheeljack hadn't said anything, but when they were together, when their systems we so fully entwined that it was impossible to hide anything from each other the emotions bled through. Wheeljack wanted a bond-mate, and they both knew that it wouldn't be Jazz.

"Touchdown in two," Trailbreaker announced, as the auto-pilot beeped. Jazz snapped out of his thoughts and scattered with the rest of his unit.

Jazz's orders had been simple; protect the city, but none of them believed that it would be easy. They had one chance. Before the Decepticon forces could attack they had to gather from the cities they already controlled, and thanks to information they had gathered on their last mission they knew where the muster would be.

Jazz glanced at the view-screen, and saw their target on the horizon. His spark almost froze at the sight. Thousands of Decepticons, hundreds of units sprawled over the landscape, and all that stood between them, and another brutal battle at the city walls, was Jazz and his five friends.

He marvelled as he activated the colour changing paint that Wheeljack had invented, and became Switchback in an instant. Being able to change between their Autobot colours and their Decepticon alter-egos cut the prep time for each mission considerably, and although Jazz would never admit it his inner sparkling had always been fascinated by colours.

"Ready to go Sunstreaker?" he asked unnecessarily. The golden warrior, or his evil twin as Jazz occasionally thought of him, simply smiled. "Jack?" Hammer turned to face him. His matt black finish seemed to absorb light, and the only colour came from the red optics that looked at him intently. "Be careful," he said softly, and he stole a quick kiss that promised more.

He was breaking his own rule. They were supposed to behave themselves when they were on a mission, they all were, but that didn't seem important, and he doubted Hound had gone to the helm just to look at the view.

* * *

><p>In a few breems they were all on the ground, and had split into two groups, each with their own tasks. After leaving Wheeljack, Hound and Sideswipe with the job of setting up rather a lot of explosives, Jazz led Sunstreaker deep into the settlement.<p>

The Decepticons had created a temporary base for themselves about twenty mega-miles south of the city. It was well defended from the outside, but it's weakness was Megatron's arrogance. The Decepticon leader did not believe that any Autobot was brave enough to attack from within. Most of them probably weren't, but Jazz considered it his honour to lead a group of extraordinary Autobots.

With the nearest city under Autobot control, the Decepticons didn't have access to a conventional hub, but they had circumvented that problem by using their communications officer, a mech whom Jazz had never encountered, but knew of by reputation, and Soundwave's reputation was formidable.

There were rumours that the Decepticon second in command was telepathic, and that he commanded his own unit, used them as spies, or assassins, depending on his needs. Jazz put little stock in rumours, they just bred fear in his opinion, but he couldn't help wondering about the truth behind the lies. He wasn't looking forward to finding out the truth.

The mech himself was easy enough to find. With every comm signal for half a mega-mile using him as a relay he might as well have been wearing a sign, but that didn't mean that getting close to him would be simple. As Megatron's most trusted officer Soundwave was rarely far from his lord and master's side.

They had run through all kinds of ideas. A frontal attack was out of the question, explosives could be detected, and the chances of sneaking up on them were slim, but Wheeljack had come up with the idea of a low level E.M.P device, which was simply thrown or dropped nearby, then rendered the target unconscious.

Jazz had pushed him to create something with a more permanent resolution, but the engineer had rightly pointed out that something more powerful would be easier to counter, because they were the ones that were prepared for. Jazz had relented, and the tiny ball he held in his hand had been created.

He toyed with it as they made a show of wandering aimlessly through the gathered Decepticons. He rolled it through his fingers as he had once done with a tiny piece of metal which had given him the idea for his alias, at least that was what his unit believed, the rest of the meaning was a private, selfish, impossible dream. He knew that he couldn't switch his command for the simple, pleasant life that he had taken for granted until he had become embroiled in the war, but he prayed for the cycle when he would get it back.

Getting close enough, but in an unobtrusive way, seemed to take forever, but once there it was easier than Jazz had dared to hope. One nod to Sunstreaker was all it took to start a shoving match, which would quickly degenerate into a brawl, and send a signal to Sideswipe to start setting the charges.

Sunstreaker edged out of the struggle after a few moments, but by that time five 'Cons were so engrossed in their melee that none of them noticed when Megatron himself stormed up, closely followed, as Jazz had hoped, by Soundwave. By this time Jazz had joined a small group of mechs who had gathered to watch the fight, and Sunstreaker had discretely slipped away.

Jazz waited for Megatron to really get into a good rant about saving their eagerness to fight for the Autobots, then tossed in the ball. No one saw it, Jazz doubted that anyone, including Soundwave even heard it, and all seven mechs dropped. Jazz shouted that he was going to find someone to revive their leader, and they were free and clear.

Just as Jazz was starting to think that the job was too easy Sunstreaker's grin disappeared. Jazz followed him at a dead run. The look on the golden twin's face could mean only one thing; Sideswipe had found himself in the very worst kind of trouble.

* * *

><p>The scene that greeted Jazz was straight out of his nightmares. Sideswipe and Hound were both fending off their own attackers, and Starscream had Wheeljack pinned. The energon in Jazz's fuel lines almost froze as he realized that the engineer had very little fight left in him.<p>

Jazz braced himself and levelled his side-arm at the Seeker's head. He had killed mechs before, but never at such close range, and never unarmed. "Let him go, or die here and now," he warned the Seeker.

"Do you know what I am to him?" Starscream screeched. "Could you really kill me right before his optics? Do you think he would ever forgive you?"

Jazz risked a quick glance at Wheeljack, who seemed to be catatonic by that time, and thanked Primus that his visor hid his actions. He knew that trusting Starscream not to capitalize on weakness had been the last mistake of many a mech, Autobot and Decepticon alike. "I think he would be happy to see you finished. He is ashamed of everything you have become."

"He did tell you then," Starscream sounded surprised, but not as surprised as he looked a moment later when Sunstreaker barrelled into him. Talking to the Seeker had only ever been a diversion, but none of them were quite quick enough to stop him ripping out a handful of Wheeljack's wires and lines as he and Sunstreaker rolled away.

Jazz swore loudly even as he sent out the emergency codes, and clamped his own hands over the wound in an attempt to stem the flow.

Jet engines roared as Starscream made his escape, the sound was almost deafening, but it didn't quite drown out the stream of curses that Sunstreaker hurled after the Seeker.

Jazz barely heard any of it. He scrambled to Wheeljack's side, pulled him close and did his best to stop the energon that was pouring from the hole in his side. "'Jack, Jack, please. You're going to be fine, just hold on. It's okay."

There was no response, Jazz wasn't even sure if Wheeljack was conscious by this time, but he hoped that his voice would give his friend something to follow back.

He heard Hound calling, and looked up to see Steelhaven's bulky hull coming in. He was relieved to see her, thankful that no matter what happened or how much trouble he found, Trailbreaker was always there to pull him out. Hound appeared at his side, Jazz nodded and the larger green mech lifted Wheeljack gently, leaving Jazz to cover the wound, and shout for the twins.

As they ran aboard Steelhaven they heard the explosions, and knew that their mission was a success. The Decepticons would be forced to withdraw and rethink their plans, and in the meantime the Autobots would have time to work on their defensive strategies. Jazz hoped that he had done enough, and that the price of success wouldn't be too high.

On Jazz's orders Sunstreaker headed to the helm to help Trailbreaker, while Sideswipe and Hound accompanied Jazz to the rear cabin to help Wheeljack. Jazz knew that his orders were a little unfair; Hound wasn't a medic, the closest thing he had to training was that he had the patience to stick with Wheeljack when he was repairing them, but it was more than the rest of them had.

"He needs an energon transfusion. Sides, do you know how to set one up?"

"I know how to start one," the red warrior answered, "but the end always got a little fuzzy."

"Make a start, I'll guide you as we go."

"Great," Sideswipe said unenthusiastically.

Jazz ran a scan, and didn't like what he found. Hound doing so well with keeping calm that he had failed to communicate how serious the situation was, and Sideswipe obviously didn't dare hurry, but they were running out of time.

Inspiration struck quickly, Jazz tugged at a small fuel line in his wrist, found the connector that medics used in emergencies, and snapped it into an identical connection on Wheeljack's wrist. It was done even before Hound could demand to know what he was doing.

"I've led this unit with the strength he gave me, and I can't lose that. I need him. We need him, so let me do this until Sides can connect the feeder."

"It's a bad idea," Hound warned him. "What happens if something goes wrong?"

Jazz smiled humourlessly. "Then I guess, just this once, I'll be the first to know, but it doesn't change anything. If it were Trailbreaker you'd do the same."

"Is it the same?" Hound asked curiously. "Do you love him?"

"I need him," Jazz said after a moments thought. "He makes me a better mech."

"The first thing that 'Breaker told me about you was that you were a good mech," Hound stated as he continued working.

"You know as well as I do that 'Breaker sees the best in everyone," Jazz said tiredly. He was starting to feel the effects of sharing his energon with Wheeljack, and wanted nothing more than to lay down to recharge, but he also knew that to do so would be one mistake too many. He needed to stay online until Sideswipe had Wheeljack patched into the proper energon feeder, but it wasn't easy to stay focused. His processor wandered beyond what he usually allowed himself to think about.

Unbidden memories of Symphony, and the pain that her death had caused him, burned in his spark, there had been nothing he could have done to save her, and that knowledge hurt more than anything, but this time, with this lover there was something, a tiny, insignificant thing compared to everything Wheeljack had given him, but it was a small repayment on an impossible debt.

"Jazz!"

It took a moment for him to understand why Hound was shouting at him. He was leaning heavily on the berth that Wheeljack was laying on, and almost a breem had passed him by without him realising.

"That's enough Jazz. The energon feeder is up and running," Hound explained in a slow, patient tone.

Every movement was an effort as Jazz detached the fuel-line. He felt weak, it took the last of his strength to stumble to the nearest chair, where he slumped, and let the rest of the flight pass him by in a haze.

He was only briefly aware of a few things after that; at some point in their flight Sideswipe bent over him, helped him drink some energon, and told him that Wheeljack would be fine. Later Trailbreaker scooped him up, reassured him, and carried him to his quarters in Nova Cronum. After that there was nothing.

* * *

><p>With his recharge cycle complete Jazz headed down to the med-bay, and was surprised to find that Wheeljack had already left. Cursing the engineer's stubbornness, he trekked back across the base, and let himself into Wheeljack's quarters.<p>

"Aren't you supposed to be in the med-bay?" He asked irritably. He wouldn't have said it, but it was quite nice to be able to turn the tables on his friend.

"There was an accident in the training rooms, nothing serious, but lots of new recruits ended up in the bay. I couldn't take all the shouting, so I promised to be good, and checked myself out. The medics trust me to look after myself."

Jazz looked around the room, there were no signs that Wheeljack had been working, and it seemed that all he had done was pour himself a little high-grade before reclining on his berth. "You could have called me," he reminded his friend.

"The last thing I want right now is to be a bother," Wheeljack murmured. "I'm not hurting, just tired, and I needed to think."

"About Starscream?" Jazz ventured. He wasn't sure how Wheeljack would react to the name, but Wheeljack hated being treated like a fragile thing too.

"He wasn't always evil," Wheeljack said, and Jazz could see the sorrow in his optics. It burned his spark to see just how upset Wheeljack was.

He took a seat on the edge of Wheeljack's berth, and settled down to listen. "I think it's time you told me what happened between the two of you," he said in a tone that he hoped wasn't too stern. "I've let it lie until now as it was ancient history, but if it's effecting the present I need to know."

Wheeljack gave him a pleading look, but cycled his vents, and began the story. "Starscream was the youngest member of the governing dynasty of Vos. He had no claim to power, but a real thirst for knowledge. We met when he joined my research team in Kaon, and soon became lovers. He was intelligent, charming, and I thought I was lucky to have him, even thought we might bond eventually, but fate intervened..."

"Kaon fell," Jazz said sympathetically.

"Don't say it like that," Wheeljack scolded him. "It's more than just an act of war to me, it was the worst cycle of my life."

"I do have some idea how that feels," Jazz reminded him.

"I know, like you I lost almost everything, and would have been killed if I had been in the city at the time, but I was in Perihex and had to listen to the info-waves just like everyone else. That was how I heard that Starscream had joined the Decepticons. I hoped that he only did it to survive, I could have forgiven him that, but I soon learned the truth; he was a 'Con because he wanted to be, and he wanted me to join him."

"Primus," Jazz whispered. "What did you do?"

"The only thing I could, I hid, I cut all ties with everyone who knew us, took a manual job in the port so that I would hear if Starscream ever came looking, and an apartment in the rough part of town, where I knew he would never go, and for vorns that was my life. I worked, I went home, and I occasionally drank too much high-grade. I didn't know what else to to."

"No one would," Jazz assured him. "You did your best, and you got out eventually."

"I met Hound after a few younglings tried to rob me, he took pity on me, really pushed me to rebuild my life, without him I would have died in Perihex, and no one would have cared."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," Jazz said supportively.

"Thanks," Wheeljack said. He was horribly embarrassed. He'd never told anyone the whole story of why he'd ended up stranded in Perihex for nearly thirty vorns. To him it was a horrendous waste of his time, terrifying and regrettable, but to anyone else he was sure that it just sounded pathetic.

"You're being too hard on yourself 'Jack," Jazz tried to reassure him. "Sometimes all you can do is hide and wait for the right time to make your move. A lesson I've had a hard time learning myself."

"None of it matters anyway," Wheeljack said dismissively. "It's all ancient history."

"It's your history," Jazz pointed out. "And less than a cycle ago it all came back to bite you in the aft."

"Well, I've booked myself in with the councillor who help you out a while back, so you can stop worrying about it," Wheeljack snapped.

Jazz gave him a measuring look. "What is it that you don't want to tell me?" he asked. He leant in to embrace his lover, but the engineer flinched away from him, before hiding his face in his hands. "'Jack," Jazz said softly. "It's okay. You've been through a lot. Don't worry."

"Help me sit up?" Wheeljack requested. He was almost pleading, so Jazz let his question go for the time being, and supported Wheeljack until he was comfortably leaning against the wall. "I guess now isn't the best time to have someone leaning over me."

"I should have thought of that, I'm sorry," Jazz apologised.

Wheeljack reached out to him, and carefully moved Jazz so that they could hug without Wheeljack feeling threatened. "I may need you to be patient with me for a while," he said uncomfortably. One thing he'd always been certain of was that he could trust Jazz with his life, but he couldn't help feeling awkward. He also knew without question that the deeper he let someone into his spark the easier it was for them to hurt him, and he'd let Jazz in deep.

"Take all the time you need 'Jack," Jazz said softly, as he settled into a more comfortable position. "I'll help any way I can."

"Then listen to me a little while longer," Wheeljack requested. "I don't know if Starscream and Megatron were lovers for a while, there were rumours, but Megatron did give him a real taste for power. Starscream led the invasion of Vos, his home city, because Megatron had promised him Lordship. He must have been furious when Shockwave got the position instead, it was after that when he tried to find me."

"And they've been taking shots at each other ever since," Jazz muttered, mostly talking to himself. He suddenly felt that he had a much better understanding of Starscream, and couldn't help wondering if it would come in useful.

"He said that he still loved me," Wheeljack said in a rush. "I know that it's twisted, and that if you hadn't showed up when you did he probably would have killed me, but..." he trailed off and hid his face in Jazz's shoulder-struts.

"Primus," Jazz whispered. He knew exactly how much Wheeljack had wanted to hear him say those words, hearing them from someone else, a former lover who had betrayed him no less, must have been torture. He wondered if it was enough to tear Wheeljack apart, if it wasn't it was close.

Wheeljack shifted uncomfortably, and Jazz knew what was coming. He knew Wheeljack well enough to know what he needed. "Lie to me," Wheeljack pleaded, "just this once, please."

"As it's you," Jazz said with a gentle smile. He leant in, kissed him tenderly, and whispered, "I love you." He'd promised himself that he would never say those words again unless he meant them, and it hurt to break that promise, but not saying them would hurt Wheeljack more, and he couldn't stand the thought of doing that.

"But you're not _in _love with me," Wheeljack corrected him sadly. "Thank you. That should help keep Starscream's voice out of my head. I'm sorry, I wish that there had been another way."

"If you had needed both of Cybertron's moons to help you feel better I would give them to you," Jazz said sincerely. His words were the truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to take Wheeljack's pain away. "But you have to do something for me too."

"And what would that be?" Wheeljack asked curiously. He was a little afraid of what Jazz might request, but he didn't believe Jazz to be insensitive either.

"Don't let him beat you," Jazz said seriously. "I'm guessing that when we first met you were only just beginning to step out from under his shadow. You were scared and insecure, which have just been explained completely, but I've seen what you've become since then. I've seen you be brave, and brilliant, caring and..." he gave Wheeljack a fond smile, "fantastic in ways I don't think you ever imagined you could be."

Wheeljack chuckled despite himself, and relaxed into their embrace a little further. "These are the gifts you've given me," he said as he returned Jazz's smile.

Jazz was stunned; he'd always believed that he was the one getting the most out of their relationship, he was sure that Wheeljack's care had saved his sanity more than once, but Wheeljack crediting him with returning his confidence made sense. Hound had given Wheeljack a good start, but once they had arrived in Nova Cronum Hound had spent most of his time with Trailbreaker, and Jazz had been the one who had encouraged Wheeljack's social skills, among other things.

For the first time he saw that the time they had spent together had been mutually beneficial. They had pulled each other through, just as Wheeljack had said they would just before they had shared for the first time, and he realised that the insurmountable debt that he had felt he owed Wheeljack for so long had actually been one side of a fair exchange. One that needed to continue. Maybe it wasn't the right kind of love, but it was enough.

He smiled much as he had a few moments earlier, but this time when he spoke he meant every word, and he knew that Wheeljack would know that too. "What ever you need 'Jack, and how ever long it takes, I'll be right here."


	25. Chapter 25

A.N: I'm so sorry about the wait for this chapter, my life's been pretty chaotic for the last few weeks, and doesn't show any signs of getting better for a while. Writing has always been my escape, but I'm finding it hard to concentrate. Technically this is only half a chapter, but I've decided to post it so that you'd had something to read, and I'd feel as if I'd accomplished something in the hope that it'll help me focus. Thank you for your patience, and please feel free to kick me if you feel I'm taking too long again.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 25<strong>

Mirage hurried through the streets of Iacon, but how ever hard he tried his optics were constantly drawn upwards. This was partly because he foolishly hoped to see a shuttle coming into land, but also because of the monumental building work, which had changed Iacon's skyline forever.

He was partly responsible for the construction. After what had seemed like an endless investigation he had discovered that a handful of small Decepticon spies had infiltrated the city, various plans had been drawn up, and it had been decided that 'The Golden Dome' would be the most effective way of keeping them out. Mirage had been thrilled that the outcome hadn't been solely practical, but beautiful also.

In his opinion his secondment had gone well. He had achieved his goal, and even started thinking of the city as home. He missed the twins and his other friends terribly, but somewhere along the line he had stopped thinking of them as his unit. He was a servant of the Prime, and happy with his lot for the most part.

The twins had visited him three times in the vorn since his transfer, and each time they had asked him when he would be coming back, he had stalled them, told them that he didn't know, but the truth was that he didn't think he would. Their more recent arrangement suited him better.

His spark raced as he reached the dock. The shuttle would be arriving at any moment, and he always worried the most at this time. The twins would be fresh out of whatever mission they had been on, possibly hurt, usually exhausted, and he never knew how they would be until he saw them.

_At least they're on time,_ he told himself. If either of them had been seriously injured they would be at least a cycle or two late.

He spotted a shuttle with Nova Cronum markings, and knew it was the right one. Few troops moved between the two cities, and Nova Cronum had nothing to trade, except information.

On reflex he covered his audios as the craft came into land, then tried to stop fidgeting as he waited for them to disembark.

They emerged soon after. Sunstreaker was first. He looked as magnificent as ever as his optics searched the dock, and alighted on Mirage. Sideswipe was a few steps behind his brother, and Mirage quickly noticed how weary he looked, and that he was limping slightly, but his optics brightened the moment they met Mirage's. He hurried past his brother to sweep him into a tight embrace, and a crushing kiss.

"Primus, but I've missed you," the red twin whispered as they broke apart. "I've bee seeing you in my dreams for cycles, but I could never quite touch you."

Mirage held his lover close. "I'm here now," he said simply, "and you have me all to yourself for a while..." he shot Sunstreaker a smile, "...well, almost."

Sunstreaker moved to join them. His greeting was more dignified; a gentle kiss on the cheek, a loose hug, and an observation that Mirage looked well.

Any witness to their reunion would have assumed that Sunstreaker was just accompanying his brother, but that was how they liked it. No one raised an optic-ridge when Mirage greeted one twin as a lover and another as a friend, but if he had welcomed them both to Iacon in the same way he had no doubt that that the gossip would rush through the city like wild-fire.

He slipped an arm around Sideswipe's waist, and gave him a concerned look. "What happened to your leg?"

"Jazz set up some explosives, but the blast was a little more powerful than Wheeljack had predicted. I used my jet-pack to catch him before he got smashed to bits, but it was awkward, and he ended up grabbing my ankle. Some of the cables still don't feel right."

"Have you seen a medic?"

"Wheeljack took a look," Sideswipe said dismissively, "but that was cycles ago, and I wasn't in the mood for him fussing over me at the time. It's mostly healed now."

Mirage wasn't going to let it lie. "There's a good medic here, and I guarantee you that he won't fuss."

"It's fine," the red twin argued. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Liar," Sunstreaker accused him. "I can feel it so I'm damn sure that you can. Where's the medic?"

"Sunny, I just want to enjoy the next few cycles," Sideswipe whined.

"And you'll enjoy them a lot more if you can walk properly."

"I don't intend walking very far actually."

Sunstreaker stopped dead. "I'm not going another step unless we're heading to the med-bay."

"Fragger," Sideswipe hissed.

"Yep," Sunstreaker agreed shamelessly. "Mirage?"

"It's that way," Mirage pointed, "not far, and it won't take long. Please Sides, for me."

"Frag you too."

"You're out numbered Sides, do I have to carry you?"

"I should have left you in Nova Cronum," Sideswipe grumbled, "or Kaon, or Vos, Antihex, Kalis..."

"Did we go to Kalis?" Sunstreaker interrupted.

Sideswipe thought hard for a moment. "Not yet," a sly smile brightened his face. "Maybe I'll leave you there." He continued muttering and naming cities as they walked, but Mirage couldn't help but notice that at no point did he mention Perihex.

A few breems later they reached the med-bay, and Mirage led them in. The medic looked up from a data-pad as they entered, and tilted his head slightly looking puzzled. "I've not seen any of you before."

"We haven't officially met," Mirage explained formally, "but I know of you by reputation. Ratchet, this is Sideswipe. He has a damaged ankle, and I was hoping that you could take a look."

Ratchet peered at Sideswipe for a moment, and the low hum of scanners was the only sound in the room until he nodded. "Table," he ordered. "Where are you from?"

"Nova Cronum," Sideswipe answered, wondering why he was being asked the question.

"Amateurs," Ratchet grunted. "How did you manage to frag up these cables so badly?"

"Saving a friend's life," the red twin stated honestly, and to his surprise Ratchet actually smiled.

His deft fingers worked hard for a few breems making adjustments, straightening out cables and replacing a few wires. "Try that."

Sideswipe stood up gingerly, tested the ankle and grinned. "That's great Doc."

"Good," Ratchet nodded. "Now get out."

"I like him," Sunstreaker said cheerfully as they left. "No hassle, no fuss. Wheeljack should take lessons."

"Wheeljack isn't a medic," Sideswipe pointed out. "He's just unlucky enough to know more about physiology than the rest of us."

"Unlucky?" His twin looked puzzled.

"One cycle he's going to look at one of us and know that there's nothing he can do to save us," Sideswipe said flatly.

"Sides," Mirage whispered, and he touched the red warrior's arm.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, as he turned in to embrace the smaller mech. "Long mission, too much time to think."

"It's over now," Mirage said softly. "I've got you."

A tremor ran through Sideswipe's body. "I fumbled the catch. Jazz could have died and Wheeljack..."

"Hush now," Mirage soothed him. "Jazz is fine, and a lot harder to kill than you seem to think he is."

"Quarters," Sunstreaker said firmly, and they pushed on. Fortunately they didn't have far to go.

As the door slid closed behind them Sideswipe leant on a wall for support, the last of his strength seemed to leave him, and he landed on the floor in a huddle of misery.

"Sides," Mirage murmured softly as he moved to join him. "It's okay, dear-spark. It's alright."

Despite Mirage's best efforts to calm him it took several breems for the red warrior to get his emotions back under his control.

"Primus," Mirage whispered in relief, "I've never seen you like that before."

"I've never been like that," Sideswipe confessed. "We've been through a lot, but I've never felt helpless before. I'm starting to understand why Jazz needs Wheeljack to keep him sane. I've always had Sunny, so I never knew what it felt like to be lonely."

"I was three mega-miles away with Hound and Wheeljack," Sunstreaker told Mirage. "There was no one else to help Jazz."

Finally Mirage had all the information, and he understood why Sideswipe was reacting so badly. He hadn't just almost let down a mech he liked and respected, he'd been alone. A concept that Sideswipe had never had to deal with before.

The blue and white held his lover close, until he realised that he was almost in recharge. Sunstreaker smiled at them both, and hauled his almost slumbering brother onto the berth. He was reasonably careful, but Mirage couldn't help noticing that the golden twin was far more gentle when they touched than when he handled his brother.

Mirage settled down between the twins, and coaxed Sideswipe into his arms. "It's alright lover," he whispered.

"I think it will be," Sideswipe mumbled, before recharge claimed him.

For a while Mirage just lay with his arms around Sideswipe, it felt good to hold him again, even if he was messed up, but then he wriggled around to look at Sunstreaker. "How are you?" he asked.

Sunstreaker looked at him with amusement shining in his optics. "You still haven't worked it out yet, have you?" he asked warmly. "When you comfort one of us you help both of us."

"It is an unusual situation," Mirage reminded him. "You and Sideswipe have lived with being twins your whole lives, but for the rest of us that concept is barely comprehensible. I'm doing my best, but clearly I still have a lot to learn."

"At least you're trying," Sunstreaker conceded, "most mechs wouldn't even bother. Recharge well Mirage."

Mirage leant in and kissed the golden twin lovingly, before settling down, and once both of his lovers were recharging he allowed himself to do the same.


	26. Chapter 26

A.N: Okay, so apologies again. I'm having trouble finding the time, and energy to write, but I am making progress, I hope. This chapter is basically the second half of the last one, I've been having issues with it, and I don't think I'll ever be completely happy with it, but I need to move on, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Take care now, and have a fantastic Christmas, FB.

**Part 26**

After his recharge cycle had finished Mirage lay quietly between his lovers, and watched them. He was glad that they were with him, and that they were safe, but his spark ached at the thought of them suffering. He didn't blame Jazz, his friend and former commander was a good mech, who always put the safety of his subordinates first, but their missions were unavoidably dangerous.

Mirage knew the risks the twins faced better than most, having lived that life himself for nearly two vorns, but if anything that only made him worry more. He knew that each mission wasn't just physically trying, but also often forced them to face their worst fears.

Sideswipe shifted slightly, a sure sign that he would soon be coming out of recharge, and Mirage wriggled a little closer to him. He wanted his lover to come back online feeling secure and loved, which seemed to work.

The red twin stretched, looked at him and grinned. "I made a fool of myself last night, didn't I?" he asked with an impish smile.

"No," Mirage answered honestly. "We all have cycles when we feel as if our world is too much for us, and there's no shame in it. These are the cycles that make us."

"I prefer the cycles when I get to recharge late, and then get to have some fun," Sideswipe said cheerfully. "Which is what I intend to do with this one."

"I'll do my best to make it so," Mirage assured him. "I'll get us some energon, and you can think about what you want to do."

"I know what I want to do," Sideswipe grinned as he pulled his lover closer. "But energon first is probably a good idea," he conceded reluctantly. Mirage kissed him quickly, then carefully extracted himself from between the twins.

He wasn't gone long, the energon dispenser was only just round the corner, but by the time he got back Sunstreaker was gone, and Sideswipe was sat on the edge of the berth. "What's going on?" he asked, as he handed over one container of fuel and sipped his own.

"Fallout," Sideswipe said bluntly, "Sunny's been holding me together for the last two cycles, stopping my emotions from overwhelming me, but I've still be affecting him. Now I'm feeling stronger he's able to deal with his own concerns."

"What can I do?" Mirage asked urgently.

"He'll be in the training rooms, let him beat the slag out of something, and hope that he talks when he's done," Sideswipe suggested.

"And what about you?" For the first time Mirage felt truly torn between his lovers, up to that point he'd managed to split his time reasonably equally between them, but in that moment he felt forced to chose which one he helped.

"I'll be fine," Sideswipe assured him. "It's not exactly how I wanted to spend this morning, but things don't always go to plan, do they?"

* * *

><p>Reluctantly Mirage left Sideswipe in his quarters, headed out towards the lower levels of the Autobot headquarters. A quick inquiry to the central computer was all it took to check Sunstreaker's location, but he couldn't shake the feeling that solving the problem wouldn't be so easy.<p>

By the time he arrived at the training levels Mirage's emotional subroutines had settled into an unfamiliar nervous state. He'd encountered Sunstreaker's volatile moods before, and he wasn't looking forward to having to deal with them again. The last time Sunstreaker had only been toying with him, sizing him up to make sure he was suitable for Sideswipe, but he had still managed to scare the bolts out of him.

"How are you doing?" Mirage asked, but Sunstreaker didn't answer him verbally. He simply sent the sparing drone he had been fighting flying across the room in a shower of sparks. "That good," he said flatly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Sunstreaker growled.

Mirage wasn't surprised; Sideswipe was the talker, in fact it was shutting him up that was usually the hard part, but Sunstreaker was a mech of action. With his spark pulsing so wildly that he was sure Sunstreaker must be aware of it Mirage lifted a staff similar to the one Sunstreaker had been using, spun it in a silent challenge, and stepped in front of his lover.

"Don't be ridiculous," the golden warrior sneered. "I'd take you apart."

"I've been training a lot since I came here," Mirage said calmly. "I might not be as easy to take down as you think. You probably haven't used one of these since your time in the Great Arena, you may be a little rusty." He was bluffing, and he knew it. He'd just seen what Sunstreaker had done to the training drone with nothing more than a thin pole, but he knew he had to try.

Sunstreaker lunged at him, and Mirage managed to block the shot. He felt foolishly proud of himself, but all emotion quickly disappeared as he was forced to focus completely on the staff that became little more than a blur in Sunstreaker's hands.

In a brief respite Mirage found himself finally understanding why Sunstreaker liked to fight in such conditions. For a mech like Sunstreaker, whose emotions regularly flared and blazed until they threatened to consume him, fighting in a controlled environment offered a sanctuary of sorts.

A sharp tap on his shoulder re-enforced his theory, and reminded him that he couldn't let his attention waver.

"Now isn't the time to be studying me," Sunstreaker said harshly.

"If you'd talk to me I wouldn't have to," Mirage snapped back. "I love you, but you do make it hard work some times."

The shot that hit him just below his chest-plate made him stagger. "I thought you said that you'd been practising," Sunstreaker sneered.

"I thought that this was a friendly match," Mirage didn't like to sound like he was whining, but he disliked the dent in his armour more.

"Would you expect an enemy to be gentle?"

Mirage glared at the golden twin; before they had become lovers Sunstreaker had promised that he would always treat him with respect and care, but apparently it had never occurred to him that such a courtesy would extend to the sparring arena.

Sunstreaker met his gaze with an unreadable look, and the smallest of smirks. Anyone other than Mirage would have missed his amusement, and Sunstreaker knew this. "Maybe this will make it easier for you," Sunstreaker hissed as he activated the colour-changing paint that Wheeljack had invented. "I believe you've met Rage."

The smaller mech felt his spark-rate treble. He knew that Sunstreaker's promise had been a hard one for him to keep, that it had forced him to be far more considerate, and controlled than he would usually be. Mirage had long suspected that Sunstreaker desired a loophole, and it seemed that he had found it.

The next few breems felt like an assault on Mirage's senses. Every cable, servo, and sensor was pushed to the limit of his tolerances, he'd never known that he could react so quickly, or that a simple training match could be so exhilarating. His processor raced as it tried to keep up with the seemingly never ending barrage of blows, and on the very edge of his thoughts he was aware that Sunstreaker was in complete control, despite his alter-ego's name there was no fury in his movements, no hate in the shots, just potentially lethal accuracy and awe inspiring grace.

Mirage wasn't scared, he trusted his lover, but he understood why so many others were intimidated by Sunstreaker. At any given moment one movement could have changed everything, that trust could be broken, and he would be terrified.

Taxed cooling systems, and overworked cables began to take their toll. Mirage had known before he'd picked up the staff that he could never win, but he didn't want to be beaten too easily either. He felt his grip on the staff start to give, and knew that he couldn't last much longer.

In an act of sheer desperation he let Sunstreaker's next blow take the staff, and leapt at his opponent. To his delight Sunstreaker seemed taken completely by surprise, and even stepped backwards, then snarled and practically threw Mirage to the ground. "Don't you dare ever do that again!" he yelled. "If you know that you can't win a fight you run, got it? If you'd had a laser-knife you might have got me, but if I'd been a true enemy I probably would have killed you too, and I will not lose you!"

Mirage scrambled to his feet, and embraced his lover. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, I'd never do that in a real fight, I just wanted to prove myself to you." As he spoke he stroked Sunstreaker's back in an effort to calm him.

"I never should have agreed to fight you," Sunstreaker said quietly. "Let's face it I'm not the lover you wanted. You wanted someone civilised, and cultured, someone who'd treat you right and make you happy."

"And you have," Mirage said firmly. "I didn't take you on for convenience, or because Sideswipe wanted me to. I'll admit that my curiosity was a factor, but it didn't take long for me to start really caring for you, and I've never stopped."

"Then why won't you come back to work with us?" Sunstreaker asked angrily. "Every time we ask you when you just say soon. We'll wait for you forever if we have to, but we'd rather not."

Mirage froze; he'd had no idea that his evasiveness had started to cause problems. He'd just wanted to remain in Iacon, and enjoy the safety of the city for a little longer. "I've been very selfish, haven't I?" He didn't need any agreement from Sunstreaker, in fact, for the first time he had trouble meeting the golden warrior's optics. "Forgive me?"

"I'll think about it," Sunstreaker said. Once again Mirage saw a ghost of a smile on his lover's face, and he started to wonder if the twin was playing him.

Since he had first met them in Vos many vorns earlier he had witnessed odd quirks in the morality of the twins; back then Sideswipe had been well known for stealing anything that wasn't affixed securely, but he only lied out of necessity. Sunstreaker on the other hand would turn lost currency into the nearest Enforcer, but had no problems at all with manipulating the truth to suit his own needs.

He knew that if he said anything he would give away his suspicions, so he let Sunstreaker show him what he had to do to prove himself. As his lover shoved him towards the nearest wall he knew he was right; Sunstreaker had, at least partially, planned their meeting. Not that Mirage minded. He was delighted that Sunstreaker wasn't treating him like he was made of glass anymore. Being coddled and protected was all well and good, but knowing that his lover felt comfortable enough to treat him like a mech was far more satisfying in Mirage's opinion.

He soon lost himself in the maelstrom of sensations that he had longed to feel from Sunstreaker.

A low moan escaped him as the warrior's dental-plates bit down on the exposed, sensitive cables of his neck, his spinal column arched in pleasure as strong fingers raked the armour-seams on his sides, and his legs struggled to hold him up as his wild, unbridled lover forced his senses to keep up with Sunstreaker's bombardment.

"I've waited so long for this," he admitted as he felt Sunstreaker trip the sensors close to his interface panel. "I..." his voice gave out, and his intake whirred loudly as the cable suddenly connected, and the assault on his senses truly began. He could barely keep up, let alone respond, but he did manage to communicate through the uplink, which seemed to be exactly what Sunstreaker wanted.

Pleasure, desire, need and heat licked through Mirage's circuits like flames. The impression of gold edged with crimson was so familiar to Mirage, but even this felt more intense, and he knew that the twins were enjoying everything just as much as he was.

No one had ever made Mirage feel so special, and yet so helpless at the same time. He felt as if only Sunstreaker, with a little help from Sideswipe, could make him feel this way, and that only he could do the same for Sunstreaker. Without knowing what they were doing, or meaning to do it, they had set each other free.

The overload that crashed into Mirage took him by surprise. He had thought that he would be the first to lose control, given that his lover was the one making all the moves, but he didn't really get the chance to consider that. He'd never felt anything so intense.

It could have been astro-seconds or breems later when he was finally able to focus himself well enough to concentrate again. Sunstreaker was still leaning on him heavily, and a slightly vague smile brightened his face and optics.

"I love you," Mirage whispered, and just to be sure that there could be no misunderstandings he sent the same message over the comm to Sideswipe.

"We love you too," Sunstreaker responded instantly. This was another surprise; there had been love mixed in with the emotions Sunstreaker allowed him to feel when they interfaced for some time, but the golden twin hadn't said those words to him before.

Mirage grinned, and pulled himself upright. He still wasn't sure how much of the last few breems had been set up, but he decided that he didn't care. If the twins needed it then he was happy, and trying to figure it out would only waste the time he had with them. For the first time in what felt like forever he let go of the puzzle, and enjoyed the result.

Sunstreaker looked at him quizzically. Evidently he had picked up on Mirage's unusual emotions through their uplink.

"It's nothing," Mirage assured him. "We'd better be getting back to your brother, and make the most of our time."

"If that's what you want," Sunstreaker murmured.

"For now," Mirage said lightly. He hadn't missed the underlying message in Sunstreaker's words, but he chose to ignore it in favour of having some fun. Besides, he couldn't really give him an answer if he didn't know what he wanted.

A cycle earlier he had been sure that he wanted to stay in Iacon, but he was starting to wonder if he was doing the right thing, or just what was expected of him. As he put away the weapons they had discarded a few breems earlier he paused briefly to examine his feelings.

He had come to Iacon sure that the safety of the capital would save his life, but he had learnt a lot in the vorn since his arrival. When they had been living together in Nova Cronum Mirage would never have dared challenge either of the twins to an equal match, he'd been nervous enough the few times he'd trained with them, but in Iacon he had, and managed to hold his own for a while. He wondered what else had changed as he walked back to his room with Sunstreaker.

Sideswipe was laying on their berth when they rejoined him, and the lazy grin he gave them said it all. He was much happier than Mirage had seen him in some time, and very satisfied. "You two should do that more often," he said cheerfully. "That was fun."

Mirage sank down on his berth, pulled Sunstreaker down with him, and settled himself between them. "I certainly wouldn't mind, but you may have to give me a cycle or so. I don't think my processor could take another round just yet."

"As you wish," Sunstreaker said with a rare smile. His tasks were done for the cycle, and they had been pleasant enough, but only with them done could he truly relax. Sunstreaker didn't often indulge in laziness, that was more his brother's idea of a good time, but he felt that he had earned a few cycles with nothing much to do, except have some fun.


	27. Chapter 27

A.N: I can only apologise for how late this chapter is, and hope that there's still someone out there that wants to read it. Take care, FB.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Part 27<strong>

Despite the fact that Mirage, and the twins, had known exactly when the shuttle that would take the brothers back to Nova Cronum would arrive, they only made it back at the docks with astro-seconds to spare. Mirage was surprised to see that there was no sign of Steelhaven, but another shuttle with Nova Cronum markings arrived just after they did, and as Mirage and the twins' approached it Jazz disembarked.

The black and white glanced around, and grinned at his three friends.

"Welcome to Iacon," Mirage said warmly, "but I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Steelhaven has a problem with her port-side engine," Jazz informed him. "She won't be going anywhere just yet, but as Wheeljack and Hound have never seen Iacon. 'Breaker and I thought we'd take a cycle, and show them around."

The last three members of the unit joined them, and Jazz held out a hand for Wheeljack to hold. Mirage couldn't help noticing that the engineer looked nervous, and he remembered Sideswipe saying that Wheeljack had been having some emotional problems since a run in with Starscream. From Sideswipe's description Wheeljack appeared to be doing much better, but still had a way to go in his recovery.

"Where would you like to go?" Mirage asked.

"I thought we'd start with the Stellar Galleries," Jazz answered. "A little culture could do us all the world of good, and we should have time for a quick trip to a decent bar before we leave. I'm hoping you could recommend one."

"I know just the place," Mirage assured him with a warm smile.

They transformed, and enjoyed a friendly race to their first destination. No one really won as Jazz, Mirage, Wheeljack and the twins were all built for speeds far higher than they were allowed to use within the city. Trailbreaker came in last and grinned at them all before slinging his arm across Hound's shoulders.

* * *

><p>For half a cycle the group enjoyed the sights, and sounds, of Iacon. They marvelled at the art in the galleries, revelled in the busy plazas that interspersed the city, and treated themselves to a few necessities, and goodies, at one of the city's markets.<p>

At length they all began to flag a little, and Mirage suggested finding a bar. The one he chose was refined, elegant and a little too quiet for Jazz's liking, but he was pleased to see that Wheeljack seemed comfortable in it so he didn't say anything on the subject.

The state of Wheeljack's processor had been one of his primary concerns since a run in with Starscream, his former lover, had left Wheeljack on edge and fragile almost a vorn earlier, but watching him chat with his friends, and enjoy his high-grade Jazz knew that his best friend, and lover, was well and truly on the mend.

"When were you last in Iacon?" Mirage asked him curiously, during a lull in their conversation.

Jazz struggled to think, it had been a long time. "Feels like a lifetime ago," he said vaguely. "I entertained at a few balls for Sentinel."

"I'm surprised you never performed at the Autobot..." Mirage began, but he cut off when he realised that Trailbreaker was shaking his head emphatically. He knew from experience that the big, black mech had no concept of the word subtlety, but he was confused. He had no idea why he shouldn't ask such an innocuous question.

Jazz also noticed Trailbreaker's reaction, and looked at him quizzically. "Was that where we were going?" he asked. He was having trouble shaking off the images of the moments before Symphony's death. "I could never remember." He was surprised to realise that his hands were shaking.

Trailbreaker reached around him, and hugged his oldest friend. "It was the least of your worries back then," he said soothingly, although his gaze never left Mirage's optics, and the threat they held was enough to keep the spy quiet.

Unfortunately the same could not be done to Sideswipe. "Did I miss something?" he demanded to know. "One moment we're having a good time, and the next Jazz is acting as if someone's died."

"I should have been doing a show at the Autobot headquarters," Jazz explained in a slow, hesitant tone. He was hoping that Trailbreaker would stop him and tell him that he was wrong, but the black mech just nodded along encouragingly. "But my lover at the time died when Uraya burned, and I fell apart. I never heard from the mech who'd booked me again so I never came back to Iacon."

Wheeljack joined the hug, and nuzzled him affectionately. "Sometimes the past comes back to bite us in the aft," he said simply, and Jazz gave him a shaky, grateful smile. Somehow, what ever happened to him, Wheeljack always understood.

"You were bonded," And somehow Sunstreaker often figured out the things that Jazz didn't want him to. "How else could you know instantly? Hey!" the last exclamation was directed at Hound, who had apparently just kicked him under the table.

"I was," Jazz agreed, "but I hadn't been for long, which I believe is how I survived." He met Sunstreaker's level look calmly. They had butted heads before over Jazz not telling whole stories. "This is the first time I've told anyone this much," he said defensively.

Sunstreaker didn't say anything, but his optics flickered quickly between Wheeljack and Trailbreaker, who both seemed to know everything.

"I was with him at the time," Trailbreaker said sternly. He was actually amazed when Sunstreaker backed down, but he managed to hide it.

They stayed in the bar for a while after that, traded stories and relaxed together. Jazz joined in after a few breems, and soon seemed to be back to his usual self. Only Wheeljack and Trailbreaker knew him well enough to see that Jazz's smiles were slightly forced, but they also knew that Jazz had lived with his grief for vorns, he had ways of dealing with it, and that it wouldn't be long before his smiles were genuine again.

As the cycle drew to a close Jazz announced that it was time for them to move on, and they reluctantly left the bar.

Sideswipe took great pleasure in embarrassing Mirage by groping him publicly before they parted. Sunstreaker, as ever, was more dignified, and merely wished him well before following his brother. The others said fond goodbyes in turn until only Jazz remained on the dock with Mirage.

He gave Mirage a winning smile. "You put me on the spot earlier," he said in a tone calculated to warn the spy never to do such a thing again, "and now it seems to be my turn."

"Which is only fair," Mirage agreed. "Ask away."

"I know that you're enjoying living in Iacon," Jazz began awkwardly, "but the twins are asking when you'll be coming back, and I've been wondering if you want to?"

"Would you think less of me if I said I didn't?" Mirage asked curiously, and with some trepidation.

"No," Jazz said firmly. "You've made a life for yourself here, a home. It wasn't so long ago that I would have done the same thing if I'd had the chance," he explained, and he found himself looking rather wistfully towards the exit of the docks, towards the centre of Iacon. He had forgotten how vibrant Iacon was, but the one cycle he had spent in the city had been more than enough to remind him.

"Then you'll understand my answer," Mirage said in a confiding tone. "I'm torn. I love the twins, they are my world, and the work I did with you was fulfilling and challenging, but I feel safe here."

"So what do you want Mirage?" Jazz pushed.

"I was never very good at making hard choices," Mirage confessed. "I never had to."

"You're saying that you want both," Jazz surmised. "Well, I can talk you your C.O about splitting your time, how does that sound?"

"Like the best of both worlds," Mirage smiled, "which is what I'm used to."

Jazz gave his friend an indulgent smile; it made a lot of sense. Mirage had lived a lavish lifestyle, he was used to getting what he wanted, and, as far as Jazz could tell, he wanted it all, which was probably why he could never chose between the twins. "I'll make inquiries next time I'm in Iacon."

Mirage felt his spark dim. He had only a rough idea of how long it had been between Jazz's last visit and his current one. Jazz seemed to see right in to his processor. The black and white was one of the few mechs who had ever been able to do that. "I don't intend to be away for long," he assured the spy. "If you're lucky I might even be able to get back here after this mission."

"Thank you Jazz," Mirage said gratefully. "I'll look forward to seeing you again."

"As will I 'Raj," Jazz returned honestly. "You take care of yourself my mech. I'll see you soon."

Mirage grinned at the endearment. A few short vorns ago he never would have allowed such a thing. He'd even slapped a mech in a bar once for using similar terms, although the mech's wondering hands hadn't helped his case, but recently he'd found himself looking forward to such things. They were an indicator that someone cared about him.

He smiled again as Jazz gave him a quick hug, and watched fondly as the shuttle took off, taking with it a group of mechs who meant the world to him. He only turned away when the shuttle was out of sight, and headed for the exit. He was almost there when he saw Prowl walking in the opposite direction, no doubt on one of the many surprise inspections which had helped to earn him his reputation.

With a respectful nod Mirage passed his commander, and wished that Prowl had made an appearance a breem earlier.

* * *

><p>Hound stretched, and put his feet up on the shuttle's console. He never would have done such a thing aboard Steelhaven. Trailbreaker would have made him walk back to Nova Cronum for a start, but the borrowed shuttle was not the closest thing that the big black mech had to a sparkling, and besides, he wasn't there.<p>

He could feel his lover a fair way behind him; probably down in the hold talking to Wheeljack judging by the emotions had ebbed and flowed through their bond. Trailbreaker always felt the same when he was having one of his private conversations with the engineer; slightly uncomfortable and oddly sentimental. Trailbreaker never seemed to tire of telling Hound that Jazz was his oldest friend, and how that friendship had sustained them both. From anyone else the speeches would have sounded hopelessly ridiculous, but Hound knew from the bond that the words were spark-felt, and the honest truth.

Even Hound had noticed that Jazz had been unusually quiet since the bar, but after what he had confessed no one was surprised. They had let him be, he needed a little time to think he said, and not even Wheeljack, who often acted as if Jazz should always have someone at his side, had retreated to the hold.

He flipped idly through a datapad he'd found aboard the shuttle; there were always a few laying about, but that one held nothing interesting, and he tossed it aside. He considered snatching a few breems recharge, but just as he settled back in his chair his optics caught movement on the scanner. Three blips were heading for the shuttle at speed, and Hound felt a chill run through his circuits.

"Jazz!" he shouted quickly. There wasn't time to do anything but that, and send his sense of dread through the bond to warn Trailbreaker. A deep, jarring rumble rocked the shuttle a moment later.

The twins burst into the helm almost instantly, but looked disappointed to find no one to fight. The sound of shots echoed through the shuttle, and Sunstreaker looked ready to go back out when Wheeljack stumbled in. Trailbreaker followed on the engineer's heels, and on any other cycle Hound would have said that the shove he had given Wheeljack was the reason for the smugness he could feel, but in this case he was certain that is was because he had Jazz hoisted over his shoulder. Much to Hound's relief Jazz did not appear to be injured, but the look of pure indignation on his face was almost enough to send Hound into giggles.

Trailbreaker set Jazz down as the door cycled closed behind them, and as soon as he had righted himself Jazz was professional again. "Report!" he barked.

Hound suppressed a smirk, and did his best to ignore Trailbreaker's infectious amusement. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, but it was an effort to keep his tone even. "I wasn't paying attention, the auto-pilot was doing all the work, and I drifted off. I didn't notice the blips on the scanners' until it was too late."

"It's a routine flight Hound," Jazz said calmly. Hound was relieved that Jazz didn't see the need to blame anyone. "How many 'Con's? And what's wrong with the main engine?" The second question was aimed at Trailbreaker, but he barely paused. The urgency in his tone was palpable.

"Three," Hound answered, as the engine spluttered and cut out. He hadn't heard the change in pitch that had warned Jazz, but he didn't doubt that it was there. Hound was sure that the range of his hearing outmatched his commander's, but Jazz knew more about tone and timbre than Hound could ever hope to know.

"'Breaker!" Jazz snapped, and the big, black mech turned and kicked out the escape hatch. "'Jack, take Hound and 'Breaker down. Head for Iacon."

Hound was moving even before Wheeljack caught his hand. They had never planned for a moment like this, Jazz hardly planned for anything it seemed, but somehow they knew what to do.

As Wheeljack led the jump to safety Hound heard the view-screen shatter behind him; they had got away just in time. The trip down wasn't a long one, but Wheeljack's boosters saved them from becoming one with the Matrix, and the landscape, and also gave Hound the time to see what had happened.

The three blips Hound had seen on the shuttle's scanners had been three mechs, and each easily bigger than any Hound had ever seen before. One had torn the rear engine apart, a second had punched his way through the hold bulwark, and the last was still half in, half out of the rear cabin. While his allies had been herding Hound's friends towards the helm the first Decepticon had over-taken them, and would have butchered them all if they hadn't jumped just in time.

As it was Jazz and the twins had barely gotten away, and Sideswipe's jet-pack was taking them down half a mega-mile closer to Nova Cronum, which would be their destination. Iacon was closer, but Jazz and the twins could reach speeds that Hound could only dream of.

Hound found himself pitying Wheeljack; sooner or later his friend would have to chose between his loyalty and his own speed. He was also grateful that he wasn't fast enough to leave Wheeljack and Trailbreaker behind.

Furious engines rumbled above Hound's head. Trailbreaker's forcefields shielded them as they dropped into their alt-modes, and headed back to the capital, but Hound knew that Trailbreaker couldn't maintain his top speed and the shield for long.

The three of them did their best but only Wheeljack had ever stood a chance of out running the flier, and that was only a slim one.

"_I'll only be able to hold this forcefield for a breem or two longer,"_ Trailbreaker warned them after a while.

"_So do we keep running or make a stand?"_ Wheeljack asked.

Hound made the decision in an instant. _"Trailbreaker and I will hold him. Keep running 'Jack."_

Hound didn't need the comm to hear Wheeljack cursing him, and he knew that the engineer wouldn't be following his instructions. He loved Wheeljack for his loyalty, but there were times when Hound felt that he went too far.

They made their stand behind an outcrop, and for a time Hound felt that they were holding their own, but when Trailbreaker took a shot to the shoulder, and pain lanced through the bond, Hound panicked.

It was over shamefully quickly after that. Wheeljack screamed with rage as stasis-cuffs rendered him immobile. Hound wanted to help him, but found himself unable to leave Trailbreaker's side. When the huge Decepticon loomed over him he found that he didn't even care. He was far too worried about his bond-mate to think about anything else.

* * *

><p>Trailbreaker flinched as someone touched his wounded shoulder. The touch was gentle, but too many sensory nodes were exposed, and the pain almost made him scream.<p>

He onlined his optics, and looked up to see Hound leaning over him. He already knew that his bond-mate was terrified, and deeply ashamed of his fear.

"I'll be fine," Trailbreaker assured him. "They seem to want us alive."

"For now at least," Hound agreed, but the words he didn't say were also clear. _I don't want us to die here._

Trailbreaker pulled Hound into a hug with his good arm, and was relieved to see Wheeljack stumbling toward them. Wheeljack could fix his shoulder, or at least make it stop hurting, either of which would go a long way towards soothing Hound's concerns.

"How's your processor?" Trailbreaker asked the engineer as cheerfully as he could.

"Unscrambled enough to fix this wound," Wheeljack responded gruffly.

Stasis-cuffs effected every mech differently. Some were simply rendered immobile, others also found themselves unable to think clearly, while a few were instantly knocked offline. Trailbreaker found himself wondering which group were the most fortunate.

As Wheeljack set to work, and Hound huddled at his side, Trailbreaker distracted himself by studying his surroundings, and his friends.

It only took a moment for Trailbreaker to see that he was the only one of them who had taken any serious injury, and for that he was grateful. The twins were pacing the entrance to their cell, both looked as fearsome as Trailbreaker had ever seen them, but Jazz looked more relaxed; he was simply leaning on a wall, and watching everything. Occasionally he shifted, slowly moving closer, and he smiled when their visors met, but Trailbreaker knew that Jazz had more on his processor than finding the best view.

Eventually his repairs were finished, and after an energon ration to boost his levels, Trailbreaker saw that Jazz's movements weren't as random as Jazz made them seem. Jazz was looking for something, but Trailbreaker didn't know what that was until Jazz recommended that he was moved to lean against another wall, so that he wasn't sat in a puddle of his own wasted energon.

The whole cell was sealed in every way, including heavy security that blocked access to the hub, but against that wall Jazz had found a weak point, a tiny chink where the vast amount of information that was both fed by the city's inhabitants, and sustained the city itself, felt somehow closer.

Gaining access to a Decepticon hub wasn't easy, but with vorns of practice and cautious probing Trailbreaker had gotten very good at hacking them. He also enjoyed the challenge. Every time he managed to beat the encryptions, and slip past the firewalls, it felt as if he was punching Megatron right between the optics.

Trailbreaker knew that he wasn't a hero. He lacked leadership skills, had very little confidence in his abilities, and never quite managed to emulate the audacity that Jazz utilised so well, but occasionally he dared to dream. In his dreams Hound at least saw him as a hero.

For what seemed like an age Trailbreaker dutifully sat quietly, and mentally navigated his way through firewalls and traps. He was almost through when he felt Jazz's hand on his shoulder.

"What ever happens next stay down," Jazz ordered quietly.

A moment later a gap opened in the forcefield that held them, and two Decepticons swept in. The twins, who had been prowling the entrance like two caged cyber-wolves since Trailbreaker had come back online, barred their path instantly.

The Decepticons stood head and shoulders taller than the warriors, but Sunstreaker and Sideswipe didn't look like they would give ground willingly.

"You will all submit to questioning," the first Decepticon said with a threatening glare.

"And after that you will be at the mercy of our lord and master, the mighty Shockwave," the other added.

"Shockwave is a flightless master of air, and a lord of Vos with less claim than Starscream," Jazz said as he swaggered forward.

Trailbreaker couldn't see Jazz's face from where he sat, but from the looks the two Decepticons gave him he could tell that Jazz had given them more than one thing to think about.

"I am their commander," Jazz continued, "so Shockwave will only question me. If he touches my mechs he will be violating the rules of war."

"Shockwave follows logic not rules," one of the Decepticons argued.

"Logically," Jazz spoke as if he was explaining something to a sparkling, "as their commander I know more than my support mechs."

The two 'Cons glared at him, but then glanced at each other. Their indecision was easy to see.

"Your master will thank you for using your processors and giving him someone useful," Jazz cajoled them.

The Decepticons seemed to agree with him, and motioned for him to step out of the cell.

"Hound," Jazz barked. "You have the command, and I don't want any trouble while I'm gone."

"Yes sir," Hound responded instantly, although the surprise and concern he felt echoed Trailbreaker's own emotions. _"Why did he do that?"_ he asked through the bond, once Jazz and the 'Cons were gone.

Trailbreaker hugged him loosely. _"Don't worry,"_ he assured his lover. _"Did Jazz speak to the twins while I was offline?"_

"_Yes, but I don't know what he said,"_ Hound answered.

"_Then trust them and Jazz. He's not expecting you to do anything more than put on a show. Mostly he just doesn't want our guards paying too much attention to me and 'Jack."_

"_Why? What will you be doing?"_ Hound asked curiously.

"_'Jack will be doing whatever Jazz asked him to, and I'll be working on the hub."_

A few breems later, and just as Trailbreaker had predicted, Sunstreaker started shouting, and lashing out at the forcefield that held them. Sideswipe joined in after a moment, but he seemed more intent on insulting their guards than venting his anger, or escaping.

Trailbreaker called for them to shut up, but he did so weakly, merely adding a little to the act before returning his attention to the crack he'd managed to make in the hub's firewalls.

With the guards shouting back at the twins, and Hound trying to soothe everyone, he was able to be a little braver, and although he still didn't have the access codes, which he knew he would get in time, he was able to pick up a familiar pattern hidden in the back-ground noise.

It was Jazz letting him know that he was alright. It wasn't much, and judging by their circumstances it was probably a lie, but it was a start.

Even before they had joined the Autobots Trailbreaker had spent vorns following Jazz around their planet, and if he had leant anything in that time it was that Jazz only needed a start; the right word in the right place, a lapse in someone else's attention, or, on more than one occasion, an open window. All of those things, and more, had gotten Jazz out of, or in to, places and situations that no one else would have thought possible.


	28. Chapter 28

**A.N:** I have to say it's great to be back, I've missed the buzz of posting, and the thrill of reviews. Thank you for understanding that sometimes real life takes priority, but I promise you that I will finish this story, although it may take some time as we still have a long way to go. Enjoy, FB.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Part 28<strong>

With a terrible snarl the guards tossed Jazz back into the cell for the third time in as many cycles. Wheeljack was the first to his side, and he was amazed to find that his friend was still online. He knew in an instant that their leader was in a bad way, there were so many injuries that he couldn't count them, and the black and white's energon levels were dangerously low.

"Best if you go into stasis," he advised. "It'd give us more time to be rescued, and take away the pain."

Jazz shook his head and sat up. "Patch up what you can, it doesn't have to hold for long. We're getting out of here soon."

"What?" Trailbreaker exclaimed. "How?"

"Shockwave made a mistake," the saboteur said with a ruthless smile. "He accessed his hub while he was with me, I followed him in, and now I have everything we need. Patrol routes, access codes, the lot."

"Jazz you're not strong enough for this," Wheeljack ventured cautiously.

"That doesn't even come into it," Jazz snapped. "It's now or never."

"If the price of my freedom is your life then I won't pay it," Hound stated firmly.

"Tough," the commander barked despite his obvious frailty. "It is my decision and it's been made. If we stay we're done. Hope will not sustain us for long, prayers will not save us, but we have a chance, all of us. I will not die here, or allow my unit to suffer any further, got it?"

"Yes sir," Hound said humbly. "What are our orders?"

"When I give the signal you will distract the guards, the twins will do what they do best, then you and Trailbreaker will take point. I'll guide us, but the hub will take up most of my attention so I'll have to rely on the rest of you to do most of the work. Get some recharge while you can, 'Jack get started. We don't have long."

As the others settled down Wheeljack began his grizzly task. He was appalled by the state his friend was in, but he was not so preoccupied by his work that he didn't notice that Jazz seemed to have something else on his processor. "What's going on Jazz?" he asked when he was sure everyone else was offline.

"Shockwave's hub has plans on it," Jazz whispered. "Plans I cannot allow to succeed, we've always known that he was ruthless, but not to what extent, now I do and I mean to see him dead before I join the Matrix."

"Hating him will only get you so far."

"It'll be far enough," Jazz retorted flatly. "Just believe me when I say that what he did in Uraya is nothing compared to what he intends to do to Iacon."

Wheeljack shuddered involuntarily at the name of the decimated city. He had never seen its ruins, but he knew how deeply it's destruction had effected Jazz, and that was more than enough to scare him. "Very well," he muttered, "I'll help you all I can."

"You always have," Jazz smiled fondly, "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you, but I ask you to do me one last favour, if the worst should happen to me get the others to safety. They deserve a future."

"So do you," his friend reminded him.

"Primus will be the judge of that," Jazz mumbled, "Though I doubt his decision will be favourable if he takes into account everything that I've done."

"You're not a monster Jazz."

_Maybe not,_ Jazz thought although he said nothing out loud. _But __I intend to destroy one before my time is up, and I'm not sure what that'll make me._

Wheeljack hoped that Jazz had listened to him, but he had offered similar words before and they had been ignored. The younger mech often refused to acknowledge his own merits. He could find goodness in others, but somewhere along the line he had lost the ability to see it within himself.

* * *

><p>Once the repairs were done the pair of mechs settled down to wait, Wheeljack tried to recharge as his commander ordered but found himself unable to, but he powered down all the systems that he could as a comprise and Jazz accepted that.<p>

As the cycle came to an end Jazz roused his unit and put his plan into action. Though the hub he deactivated the bars while the guards were paying more attention to one of Hound's holograms than their charges, and before they had time to react the twins pounced.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe moved fast and neither of them gave any quarter. "Now what?" Sideswipe asked while his twin took care of the last Decepticon.

"'Breaker, Hound," Jazz hissed as Wheeljack helped him to his feet. He directed them through the maze of corridors that led to freedom. The strain of his actions were clear on his face before they had gotten far, but he pushed on regardless, and thanks to his connection to the hub they soon found themselves at the shuttle bay, where the two Decepticons on guard met with sudden ends at the hands of the twins.

"Get aboard quickly," Wheeljack instructed. "There's not much time."

"Less than you realise," a cold voice said from behind him. "Did you really think that you could escape? No one escapes me."

Everything seemed to happen at once; Sunstreaker opened fire with a gun he had looted, Shockwave did the same with his own weapon, Jazz let out a wordless cry of pain, and before Wheeljack knew what was happening he had the black and white in his arms, as Trailbreaker sheltered them with a force-field.

With Hound and the twins close behind him he made a dash for the nearest shuttle. Shockwave's parting shot had torn a gaping hole in Jazz's side, and half-processed energon already coated Wheeljack's hands.

"This is important," Jazz whispered, as he produced a small info-chip from his subspace. It slipped through his fingers as his systems surrendered to stasis. Sideswipe picked it up, and placed it safely on a shelf.

"Where to?" Trailbreaker demanded to know as he stormed aboard.

Wheeljack glanced at Jazz, took in the other mechs injuries and knew that there wasn't much he could do.

"He needs the best of medics," Sideswipe said suddenly, "and I know just where to find him. Take us to Iacon."

* * *

><p>Finally the shuttle touched down, and three mechs marched aboard. The first two carried weapons and looked around the small group of strangers warily, the third kept behind them, but Wheeljack was relieved to see that he wore the markings of a medic.<p>

"Designations!" the smaller of the armed mechs barked, making it clear that they had yet to prove worthy of his trust.

"Temporary commander Wheeljack, usually I'm the technical support," Wheeljack answered in a businesslike tone, "Trailbreaker is our pilot, and our warriors are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."

"Two warriors?" the larger, predominantly red mech drawled. "I thought you reported that you were a covert unit."

"They're twins," Wheeljack retorted harshly. "You try separating them."

"You also stated that there were six of you, and that one required medical attention," the medic said calmly.

"For our unit commander," Wheeljack explained. "He's in the rear cabin."

"Ironhide, stay here. Ratchet, with me," the white and black mech ordered. "Wheeljack, you too."

With a quick nod the scientist led them through the connecting door, "This is Hound, our scout," he said with a quick gesture to the green mech. "And Jazz, I've done all I can but we didn't have much of anything, and Shockwave made a real mess of him."

"That fiend makes a mess of everything he touches," the white and black mech muttered, "Everything checks out. Ratchet, do everything you can."

The medic nodded once and began work without hesitation before the other Autobot spoke again, "I hope you will forgive our caution Wheeljack, but you are in a Decepticon shuttle, we had to be sure."

"Understandable," Wheeljack accepted, "But knowing your name would make me feel better."

"Prowl," the mech answered curtly, "Second in command to Optimus Prime, tactician and chief regulator of Iacon."

"I've heard of you," Wheeljack confirmed, "I have a friend who's based here, we came here because apparently Ratchet is the best medic on the planet, and I wanted to give Jazz the best chance I could."

"Does this friend have a name?" Ratchet asked although he didn't look up from his work.

"Mirage."

Ratchet seemed to smile to himself but Wheeljack couldn't see his face well enough to be sure. "I wasn't aware that Mirage had any friends," the medic muttered.

"He isn't the easiest of mechs to get along with," Wheeljack agreed. "But we saved him when Crystal City was destroyed, he worked with us for a while before he was transferred here, Jazz built this unit on trust and Mirage accepted that after a while."

"That's all the talk we have time for," Prowl put in. "Prime has ordered you to his office, he wants a full report."

Wheeljack nodded. "I need one thing before we leave, it may interest you Prowl."

"Oh?" Prowl asked curiously, as Wheeljack led him back out.

"How's Jazz?" Trailbreaker asked as soon as they reappeared.

"Holding on," Wheeljack replied, as he pressed the info-clip into Prowl's hand. "We'll soon find out if this medic lives up to his reputation."

"Ratchet will do his best. Always has, always will," Ironhide assured them gruffly.

"He'd better," Sunstreaker growled.

"Sunny," Sideswipe hissed at his twin in a warning tone.

"What?" the golden warrior demanded.

"We have enough to worry about with Jazz, we don't need you making things worse."

"You'll have to excuse the twins," Wheeljack said apologetically. "Jazz is one of very few mechs they actually give a frag about."

Prowl left the shuttle with Wheeljack while Ironhide took charge of the others, although the tactician did take the liberty of comming a few other mechs to keep an optic on the new arrivals. He couldn't help but feel wary of the twins. Not many mechs back-chatted Ironhide, but then the brothers didn't really know the seasoned warrior.

As he led the way to the Prime's office Prowl's thoughts moved on from the twins to their commander. The battered mech in the rear cabin hadn't looked like much, but it was clear to Prowl that he commanded the unwavering loyalty of his unit, and while comradeship was common among the Autobots few mechs managed to acquire both friendship and respect from their subordinates. Either one was easy, but they rarely came together.

The door slid open as they reached their destination and it occurred to Prowl that Wheeljack had not said a word. Most mechs would have at least asked what kind of mech the Prime was, or maybe commented on something that caught their optics; few came to Iacon for the first time and said nothing.

Optimus Prime's imposing figure stood close to the view-screen, easily head and shoulders taller than most mechs on the base their leader rarely failed to impress newcomers. Wheeljack did not seem concerned. He bowed, but gave no indication that he was in awe of the much larger mech.

"Be welcome Wheeljack," The Prime greeted the scientist politely. "I've had energon brought up for you, no doubt that you are in need of it after what you and your unit has endured."

"We are Jazz's unit sir," Wheeljack corrected his superior.

Surprise flickered in the Prime's optics, but he wasn't about to argue with a mech who was clearly very loyal to his commander, and absolutely exhausted. "I won't keep you long Wheeljack. I just wanted to assure you that you are very welcome in Iacon, and see if there's anything you need. It's the least I can do for a unit that has worked so hard for the Autobot cause, but has never been here before."

"Thank you," Wheeljack said with genuine gratitude. He sipped his energon, it took real restraint for him to not just gulp it down, but he didn't want to appear any ruder than he already had. "We don't need much, just somewhere to rest for a while."

"I'll see that you're assigned quarters. Would a suite suit your needs?"

"Yes sir. Thank you... again."

"You're welcome Wheeljack," Optimus told him. "I look forward to seeing you again once you're rested."

Knowing that he was being dismissed Wheeljack almost ran for the door.

After his introduction to the Prime, Wheeljack headed for the med-bay, and found the twins standing guard.

"Ratchet won't let anyone in," Sideswipe informed him petulantly. "Some of the other mechs tried to drag us up to their rec room, but Sunny isn't feeling very social. Hound and 'Breaker are keeping up appearances for us."

Wheeljack nodded at all the information, "I'm going in for a look," he announced. "Get yourselves some energon and rest, you earned it, but stay out of trouble. If either of you ends up in the brig before Jazz comes back online I'll scrap you myself," it was an empty threat and they all knew it, but he hoped that it would be enough to keep them in line. Jazz had always been able to pull them out of the brig in record time, but Wheeljack wasn't sure if he could resist the temptation to leave them there.

As the twins reluctantly left their post Wheeljack let himself into the med-bay and barely ducked a flying laser-scalpel.

"Pick that up and get out!" the medic roared. "I'm busy."

"And I'm here to help," Wheeljack said firmly. "I've patched Jazz up more times than I care to count, there isn't much about him I don't know, and one of the most important things you need to know is that if you don't bring him back online in the right way he's likely to rip out your fuel-lines."

"I've repaired thousands of mechs that were in battle-mode..."

"Not like Jazz," Wheeljack interrupted before the medic could really get started. "He may not look like much, but he's lethal, and I've yet to meet a mech that can match his reaction times."

"You walk into my med-bay, tell me that I can't deal with my patient, insult my intelligence and expect me to let you help?" Ratchet hissed.

"Pretty much," Wheeljack confirmed, but it was a conscious effort not to flinch away from the red-hot glare that was aimed in his direction. "Jazz is my friend, I will not allow any harm to come to him, or let him hurt anyone he shouldn't."

To his surprise Ratchet smiled. "You'll do," he said with genuine amusement. "How long have you been together?"

"On and off for vorns," Wheeljack informed him, "but he's not mine, and I'm not his."

Ratchet nodded, but said nothing more on the subject, and they spent the rest of the cycle working companionably.

* * *

><p>After a full recharge cycle they reconvened to finish the job and with that done Wheeljack gently pinned both of the black and white's hands with one of his own and connected the last circuit.<p>

"It's alright Jazz," he said softly. "We got away. We're safe, thanks to you."

"Are you sure you got the right wire?" Ratchet asked when nothing appeared to happen.

"'Course he did," Jazz answered smoothly. "But it's for the best if I take a moment to find out whether or not I'm safe. What's the score 'Jack?"

"We won the last round. We're in Iacon."

"Iacon," Jazz repeated with a smile. "Finally. That would make you... Ratchet," he guessed. "Thank you for your help."

"I'm not done yet," Ratchet informed him. "all the major repairs are complete, but there is still some work that needs doing."

Jazz looked crestfallen, he'd never liked the med-bay, and having to adjust to a new medic wasn't something he looked forward to, but he settled back onto his berth grudgingly.

Wheeljack picked up a tool. "Is this what you've been doing since we got here?" Jazz asked instantly. "You are in Iacon 'Jack."

"I know where I am Jazz, but I have had more important things to worry about."

"Your C.O is right Wheeljack," Ratchet put in. "I'm grateful for your help, but Jazz will be fine now, and you should be making the most of your leave."

"I can make it an order," Jazz added with an impish smile, and Wheeljack knew he was beaten.

"Iacon awaits me then," he said quietly. He was trying not to appear sulky, but he was a little apprehensive about going out into the great city alone, and really he just wanted to look after Jazz. "I'll see you when Ratchet deems you fit to leave his care."

"Have fun 'Jack," Jazz grinned, and with a final nod Wheeljack left the med-bay.

Jazz laid back on his berth as Ratchet continued the rather tedious list of repairs, he tried to appear relaxed, but his dislike of medical treatment, and his natural restlessness made it difficult. He tried to stop fidgeting when Ratchet started growling though.


	29. Chapter 29

**Part 29**

Wheeljack soon found that the strangest thing about being in Iacon was the fact that he was bored. With no duties or missions, and his lab several hundred mega-miles away there was simply nothing for him to do, and although he enjoyed his high-grade the last thing he wanted was to spend all of his time in a bar.

Instead, after idling away a couple of cycles exploring the city, he eventually decided that he really should do something at least semi-constructive, and headed for the targeting range. He'd never considered himself to be any more than an average shot, but he hoped that a little practice would help.

The training area was immense, but it seemed that Wheeljack had chosen a time when it wasn't busy. In fact there was only one other mech around, on the long distance range. Wheeljack paused to watch and was impressed. From where he was standing he barely had time to register the targets before they blinked out again as Bluestreak shot them down.

He took a few steps closer, hoping to get some idea of how it was done, and expecting the younger mech to be completely absorbed in what he was doing, but Bluestreak turned to greet him almost immediately.

"Hello Wheeljack," he said brightly.

"Nice to see you again Bluestreak," Wheeljack returned agreeably. "Good cycle?"

"Good enough, quiet though. Are you enjoying Iacon?"

"I'm not used to doing nothing. Usually if I get a few cycles I'll go to my lab and tinker with something."

"So you found yourself at a loose end and came here, are you any good?"

"I could be better," Wheeljack admitted.

"You want a lesson?"

"Can that sort of reflex be taught?"

"I have some fairly high-end upgrades," Bluestreak confided. "When I came of age I told Prowl that I wanted to fight, but he refused to put me in the front line. Becoming a sniper was our compromise. I hate it, but that's better than enjoying it, right?"

"If you'd just told me that you enjoy killing others then I think I would have run out of the door," Wheeljack informed him.

"I wouldn't blame you," Bluestreak nodded, "but I only kill when I have to, when it's a choice between my friend's life and my enemy's. Most of the time I avoid vital systems, and that can be taught, especially to someone who has a medical background. Maybe not at this distance though, let's start short and work up, okay?"

"Sure."

"I've got just the right program actually. It's almost like a game. Ironhide designed most of the official training simulations, but I got bored of them pretty quickly." He caught Wheeljack's hand and pulled him along to another area. Wheeljack mused that the action was one that only a close friend or a sparkling would use, but for some reason didn't feel out of place. The younger mech led him to a huge open space, and positioned him in the middle of it.

"It's easy really," Bluestreak said reassuringly. "Your targets will be Seekers as they're the most common model we come across, each one will have coloured dots on it indicating disabling, but not life-threatening areas, the closer you get to those the higher the score, yes?"

Wheeljack nodded, switched his weapon into practice mode, and stood ready.

"Three, two, one, go," Bluestreak called, and the view around him changed. Walls sprang up out of nowhere, Seekers popped out from behind them or raced overhead, and Wheeljack did his best to hit the target dots. It wasn't easy, but he felt he was getting the hang of it before the program ended and the holograms faded away.

"Not bad," Bluestreak congratulated him, pulling up a list of high-scores that showed Wheeljack's tally somewhere in the middle. Bluestreak, Mirage and Ironhide held the top three spots. "There's nothing wrong with your reflexes that a bit of practice won't sort out." He walked a slow circle around the engineer and flicked the end of one of the small winglets on Wheeljack's back. "What are these?"

"Stabilisers," Wheeljack answered, wondering why. "I had boosters installed a few vorns back."

"You can fly?" Bluestreak asked a little wistfully.

"Short range only. I'd never out-fly a Seeker, but it has come in useful."

"Sounds like fun too."

"Why did you ask?" Wheeljack prompted the younger mech.

"Just that extremities like these," he flexed his own, rather more impressive appendages, "are really good places to put movement or energy sensors, they're a real advantage in a fire-fight. Perceptor could fix you up with some while you're here."

"I could probably do it myself," Wheeljack reminded him. "I just never thought about it. Thank you."

"Have you got time for another round before you go?" Bluestreak asked.

"Sure. I'm in no rush."

Bluestreak grinned. "I'll help you a bit this time, maybe we can improve your score a little."

They started the program over again, and under Bluestreak's instruction Wheeljack found that he was finding targets quicker and getting closer to them. He did his best to imitate how the younger mech moved too; keeping his steps light and quick, and he was reminded of the few times he had danced with Jazz. Bluestreak was certainly as graceful, and made it look just as easy, although Wheeljack's vents were soon working as hard as they could.

Despite the effort Wheeljack was enjoying himself, agreeing to round after round took no thought at all, and always made Bluestreak smile.

They played different versions, pushing each other and laughing at any errors they made, although Wheeljack was fairly sure that most of Bluestreak's mistakes were deliberate and made to make him feel better.

Eventually, after a particularly hard level, Wheeljack landed on his knees, vents heaving, and said, "I think that's enough for now."

"Best training session I've had in ages," Bluestreak grinned as he helped the older mech to his feet. "We should do this more often."

"It's a shame I'm leaving in three cycles, but if you have any downtime between now and then maybe we could."

"Cycles after next I'm off duty, you wanna do something?"

A note in Bluestreak's tone, a light in his optics and the fact that he younger mech was yet to release his hand told Wheeljack that Bluestreak wasn't just asking if he wanted a little more target practice. "Are you..." he paused to chose his next words carefully, "...interested in me?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Bluestreak asked back.

"Not many are," Wheeljack murmured. He was more than surprised by how blunt Bluestreak was being. It seemed that he wasn't shy about making his intentions known, but Wheeljack had never been comfortable with being forward. It seemed strange to him that some 'bots seemed to find seduction as easy as walking, while others struggled with every step.

"I'm... uh... with someone," Wheeljack stammered. "It's not serious, but I'm strictly a one 'bot at a time mech."

Bluestreak looked a little disappointed. "Fair enough," he said, "I should have thought of that, maybe you'll let me know if your situation changes."

Wheeljack nodded. He was horribly uncomfortable, but he had no idea what to say. Fortunately for him Bluestreak's smile never seemed to be far away. "Come on," the younger mech encouraged him. "One more round and we'll call it a night."

Wheeljack agreed, although when he checked his chronometer he was surprised by how late it was. He threw himself into the challenge again. He wasn't sure what he was trying to prove, but he was determined to show how good he could be.

When they were finally finished Bluestreak called up the score table again, and Wheeljack was thrilled to see that he'd jumped up seven places.

"Well done," Bluestreak congratulated him. "You've made real progress here."

"Thank you," Wheeljack said gratefully. "None of my instructors ever managed such improvement."

"You just needed the right kind of help," Bluestreak said dismissively. "I'll see you around Wheeljack. My offer stands." And with those few words said he left quickly, leaving Wheeljack wondering if the younger mech meant his offer of more target practice, or something more intimate, or both.

He headed back to his quarters with his processor full of possibilities, poured himself a little high-grade from the dispenser in the main area, and slipped into his quarters before anyone saw him. He needed a bit of time to think.

"Hi 'Jack."

_Damn. _He'd actually managed to forget that Jazz had the other berth in his room. Jazz had only left the med-bay that morning, and Wheeljack had gone out into the city not long after his commander had gone into recharge.

"Long cycle?" Jazz asked. His gaze dipped slightly to the serving of high-grade in Wheeljack's hand.

"Confusing," Wheeljack admitted.

"I thought you liked puzzles."

"I like mechanical puzzles, this is an emotional one. I can't build something to fix it."

"You've met someone." It wasn't a question. Jazz had seen right through Wheeljack's deliberate vagueness, and gone straight to the spark of the problem.

"How...?" Wheeljack dismissed the question with a shake of his head. This was Jazz; end of explanation. "What do I do?" He felt awkward and embarrassed, he was vorns older than Jazz but his inexperience of relationships left him needing advice from the mech who been his on and off lover since they had met.

"You like him." Again there was no question. "You feel comfortable and happy in his presence," he paused for long enough for Wheeljack to nod. "Then you know what you have to do."

"Do I have to say it?"

"Not to me," Jazz grinned. "We've had a good run 'Jack, and I'm so grateful that you are in my life, but I was pretty sure that this would happen eventually. Of coarse I want to meet him at some point. I need to make sure that he's good enough for you."

Wheeljack laughed. In just a few astro-seconds they had redefined their relationship completely, and Jazz, adaptable as ever, had already switched from casual lover to protective friend, and done it as easily as Wheeljack cycled his optics.

"So what do I do next?" Wheeljack asked. Jazz seemed happy to advise him, and he figured that he may as well make use of Jazz's extensive experience.

"Does he like you?"

"He said so. Actually he approached me, but I told him I was with someone."

Jazz shook his head fondly. "You really are hopeless 'Jack," he said, but not unkindly.

"I needed to clear things up with you first," Wheeljack explained, "and I honestly didn't think it would be this easy."

"Would you prefer it if I threw something at you?" Jazz asked dryly.

Knowing that Jazz rarely missed anything he was aiming for Wheeljack shook his head vehemently. "No, but I'm glad we got through this without tearing into each other. That was always my fear, you told me more than once that I would be the one to end us, but I never wanted to be the one who hurt you."

"All you've ever done is save me," Jazz said with a fond smile. "I wish you every happiness 'Jack, and someone who loves you as much as you deserve."

"'Breaker was right all those vorns ago," Wheeljack smiled. "You really are the best of friends."

"I imagine that it's much easier to be my friend than my lover."

"I'll let you know," Wheeljack assured him. "Thank you Jazz."

Jazz nodded and eased himself back down onto his berth. He was exhausted, but he still took the time to smile at his friend, in his opinion Wheeljack had always worried too much, but in some ways that concern had defined their friendship. As Jazz settled down to recharge he couldn't help wondering what would come next.


	30. Chapter 30

**A.N:** I understand from my reviews that some of you were disappointed by how I ended Jazz and Wheeljack's relationship, and for that I can only apologise. I tried for fireworks, but they just didn't happen. Maybe someone will write a story where things work out for them, and I'll look forward to reading it.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Part 30<strong>

Jazz could barely believe his optics, just three cycles earlier he had been in a holding cell in Vos – the closest a living 'bot could get to the Pit itself, beaten, abused and almost defeated, but not quite. A single moment had given his unit a chance. After all their pain and suffering they were safe, and in Iacon.

Since he had become involved in the war Iacon had been a symbol of safety, the one place that Megatron's greed and Shockwave's malice couldn't touch.

He had to admit that the City wasn't quite the haven he had imagined, there was still an undercurrent of fear, an unease that never quite faded, but after all he had witnessed and experienced in Perihex, Antihex, Vos and all the other cities he had worked in, the Autobot capital still felt like a sanctuary, even if it was a fragile one.

At the door to his destination he paused, this was something unknown, and it made him a little nervous. He'd met hundreds of mechs and femmes on his travels, but this was different, this was a Prime. Granted, he'd met one before, what seemed like a lifetime ago, but he still remembered how powerful the mech had seemed. _I've been through worse,_ he told himself. Unbidden his thoughts turned to Wheeljack; letting him go hadn't been as easy as he'd made it look, nothing ever was, but he'd always known that he'd have to let Wheeljack go. The only surprise was how long they had been together.

He knocked politely and let himself in without waiting for an answer; he wasn't in the mood to hang around. Two pairs of blue optics looked up at him immediately. One pair was almost on his level, but the other looked down at him from a battle-masked face head and shoulders above Jazz's optic-line. Optimus Prime was every inch as imposing as his predecessor; strong, serious, but much younger.

Jazz smiled warmly and tossed off a salute. "It's an honour Sir," he said truthfully.

Optimus Prime smiled behind his battle-mask. Usually when he met someone for the first time his first words were 'at ease', but for once there was no need; this mech looked as if he had just walked into a room full of his closest friends. "You are more than welcome Jazz," he responded, "are you healed?"

"Better than ever," Jazz answered. "Your medic deserves his reputation."

"Glad to hear it," Optimus nodded, wondering which particular reputation Jazz was referring to. "I wouldn't want you rushing your recovery and damaging yourself further. I know I left instructions for you report here as soon as possible, but we weren't expecting you for at least another cycle."

"We're having trouble sorting through the information that you brought us," the smaller mech put in without even introducing himself, and he indicated a large mass of data-pads that littered the Prime's desk.

"If you're trying to read it off those then I'm not surprised, but I doubt anyone has ever tried to read a hub before," Jazz told him. He hoped that he didn't sound patronising, he could see intelligence in the mech's bright blue optics. "They're more complexed than you'd imagine, millions of reports all linked to others, it's like trying to make a sphere into a straight line. Do you have a holo-table, and my chip?"

Optimus handed over the original copy and indicated the device that Jazz had asked for that was set up in the corner. Jazz crossed the room and loaded up the disk, a moment later representations of hundreds of thousands of files jumped into view. Jazz sorted through them quickly, and pushed a cluster of virtual reports towards the Prime.

"These are the ones you should look at first. They contain Shockwave's plans for the future, and they make what he did to Uraya look like a pleasant memory." He'd never imagined that he would say those words; the cycle Uraya burned had been the worst of his life.

"We have no proof that Shockwave was responsible for Uraya," the smaller mech stated.

Jazz glanced at him. "You do now," he said as he tapped another file. Just touching the file made him want to scrub his paint off, but being able to prove who was responsible for the worst case of genocide his planet had ever seen actually made everything he had suffered at Shockwave's hands worth while.

The unnamed mech stiffened. "Who else knows bout this?" he demanded.

"Just my unit," Jazz assured him, "and they're not talkers. Why?"

"There's a mech here by the name of Bluestreak, he's not much more than a youngling, but he was the only 'bot to survive Uraya falling so we let him join. I wouldn't like to think about what this information could do to him."

"I'll make sure my mechs don't say anything," Jazz promised.

"Transfer the information to my office and I'll start working on it," the other black and white said briskly before he excused himself.

Jazz watched him go. _Nice aft, shame about the attitude,_ he mused. "Not one for pleasantries, is he?"

"Everything you brought with you has him worried," Optimus explained, "and Bluestreak is one of few mechs here that he truly cares for. He helped raise the youngling, and he makes it his business to protect him."

"At least he has a good reason," Jazz smiled.

"If it helps at all he actually seems impressed by you and your unit."

"And just how did you come to that conclusion?"

"He hasn't referred to them as a worthless rabble," Optimus answered with a chuckle. "Or a mismatched conglomeration of underused C.P.U.'s, which I think will remain my personal favourite for some time."

Jazz smirked, and wondered if he would get an answer if he asked which unit the mech had been referring to.

"So," Optimus said in a businesslike voice, "thanks to you we now have a heap of information that Shockwave never intended for us to have. You may well have saved Iacon."

"At least until someone comes up with a new plan," Jazz reminded his commander. He knew that he didn't need to, Optimus seemed to be a realist, but it never hurt to be a voice of caution, even if Jazz wasn't generally a cautious mech.

The Prime nodded in agreement, but kept his tone light he spoke again. "You've served your faction well since you joined Special Ops, and from your file I see that you've not asked for much, do you ever think that your unit might deserve more?"

"They deserve peaceful lives in beautiful cities, but I can't give them that," Jazz answered, hoping that he didn't sound like he was saying that the war was the Prime's fault.

"My point was going to be that you and your unit deserve a reward for their service," Optimus continued formally. "So my question is what can I do for you Jazz?"

The black and white thought for a moment. "We all signed up in the hope of helping to end this war," he explained, "we don't need much, although a few cycles hospitality would be nice, and, if you can spare him, Mirage was originally part of my unit, his presence is missed, and I'd like him back, even if it's just for a while."

Optimus nodded agreeably. "The city is yours for as long as you wish, and I'll see what I can do about Mirage's transfer. He's been a valuable asset, but if he wants to return to you then so be it."

"Thank you Optimus," Jazz said gratefully. He was sure that the twins would be delighted to have Mirage working with them again, and he was looking forward to seeing his friend too.

"It's been a genuine pleasure Jazz, but I'm afraid I must return to my duties," Optimus dismissed him. "I hope I see you again."

"Likewise Prime," Jazz grinned, and he let himself out.

* * *

><p>The rec room was noisy, crowded, and in Jazz's opinion absolutely wonderful. Music played, 'bots talked, shouted, danced, or played games, and everyone seemed determined to be happy.<p>

"Now this is more like it," Jazz grinned as his feet picked up the rhythm of the music. "Okay mechs at ease, enjoy, but just remember that if any of you get yourselves in any trouble it won't be just me that you have to answer to," he finished with a pointed look at the twins.

Sunstreaker didn't even grace his threat with a reaction before he walked off to join one of the tables. Sideswipe tossed off a salute before following his brother.

"They seem suspiciously cheerful," Wheeljack observed.

"We forget how young they are," Jazz responded. "They've earned their down time. We all have."

Wheeljack nodded and started to walk into the throng. He got three steps before he realised that Jazz hadn't followed him. "Are you coming?" he asked with mock impatience.

"I need to do something first," Jazz answered. "Nothing strenuous, promise," he added with a grin as he swaggered off.

Several vorns earlier Jazz had considered himself a mech of few extravagances. He'd given up so many of his simple pleasures when he joined the Autobots, and most of the rest during his time as a unit commander, but as soon as he had walked into the room he had decided to allow himself one small indulgence.

No one paid him any attention as he nonchalantly sauntered around the edge of the crowd. His feet didn't miss a beat, his audios caught every sound, his scanners picked up every movement, and he found himself feeling more like his old self than he had since that fateful night when Perihex had fallen.

He made it most of the way round before he actually saw the large red and yellow mech who was in charge of the music. He seemed to be having the time of his life, and Jazz quickly back-tracked to pick up a generous shot of high-grade before he approached the unknown Autobot.

"Nice tunes my mech," he said cheerfully. "This is a thank you, you've made my night."

The red and yellow mech shot him a grin and downed the fuel without hesitation. "The name's Blaster," he introduced himself. "And thanks. Music makes my world go round, but not many here appreciate how much energy it takes to keep the sounds in the air."

"Most of them don't know," Jazz corrected him.

"So you were in music," Blaster sounded triumphant. "I thought so. Something in the way you move, not many have natural rhythm. Grace yes, but most of them can't keep a beat."

"Maybe I'll teach them to dance while I'm here," Jazz smirked. "Keep up the good work."

With Blaster's chuckles fading out as he walked away Jazz moved off, found Wheeljack and sat down.

"You seem to be making yourself at home," Wheeljack observed.

"The place has style," Jazz grinned. "But we shouldn't get too comfortable. We're not staying."

Wheeljack nodded agreeably. "But let's forget that for a while. Jazz, I'd like you to meet Hoist and Grapple, Mirage is getting drinks."

Jazz smiled warmly and glanced over his shoulder as his scanners picked up a familiar energy signature.

"It's good to see you again," Mirage said formally before he gave up all pretext of dignity, as Jazz bounced to his feet and pulled him into a tight hug.

"How's it goin' 'Raj?"

"'Raj?" a new voice echoed. "I'm sorry," it continued, "I couldn't help overhearing and I've never heard anyone call Mirage anything like that. I mean he tends to be..."

"Bluestreak," Hoist interrupted. He didn't sound annoyed, as if he was more than familiar with the mech's tendency to go on.

"Sorry, again," the mech apologised immediately with a nervous glance to Jazz, who had by then summarised that the mech was young, and rarely calm. "Anyone here will tell you that I talk too much, I don't mean to, I just don't know when to stop."

"Don't worry about it," Jazz murmured. "And, just so you know, Mirage was part of my unit before he was transferred here."

"They saved my life," Mirage added. "And gave it back to me," he finished with a fond smile.

Jazz sat back down and let the conversation wash over him for a while. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in what they had to say, Jazz always enjoyed meeting new mechs, and Hoist at least had a dry sense of humour that kept Wheeljack and Bluestreak giggling, while Grapple tried to explain something he was working on, but it was an odd feeling of familiarity towards the young mech held his attention.

Bluestreak's wasn't an uncommon model. Jazz had seen two others like him in the few brief walks he had taken, and wouldn't have been surprised if there were more, but it was more the fact the Bluestreak looked like a younger version of a mech he had met earlier that intrigued him.

Quickly he sifted through the bits of information he had on the two mechs; the similarities between them were so obvious that his first thought was that they could have shared a maker, but the mech himself had told Jazz that Bluestreak had lost everything in the fires of Uraya.

_So youngling and mentor?_ Jazz wondered, and panic blazed through his circuits as he realised when he had last thought the same thing. The rec room felt too loud, too crowded, too open, and there was every chance that a mech he had once met in Antihex could walk in at any moment.

"Jazz, are you alright?" Wheeljack's question seemed to drag him back to reality, where he realised that everybody was looking at him.

"Erm, yeah, sure, I just..." he stammered. He could tell Wheeljack anything, but most of the other mechs present hadn't earned that level of trust.

"You've been trying to do too much," Wheeljack scolded him. "Ratchet and I both warned you."

"I'd hardly call a meeting with the Prime a heavy cycle," Jazz protested.

"Have you rested at all since then? Or even refuelled?" He didn't give Jazz a chance to answer. "Medical, now."

"My berth will do, and I promise to take some energon with me."

"I'll walk with you just to be sure," Wheeljack persisted.

"I'm afraid my guardian had made his decision," Jazz said apologetically. "Gentlemechs," he excused himself.

"I'll look forward to seeing you again," Mirage said striving for formality, but he ruined it himself when he turned to Wheeljack. "Take care of him for me," he said softly.

"Will do," Wheeljack nodded and the two mechs headed out. "You want to tell me what happened in there?" he asked once they were alone in the corridor.

"Blast from the past," Jazz answered trying to sound casual.

"If you're telling me that you've already fragged Hoist..." Wheeljack began, his voice was stern, but his optics shone with amusement.

"Not him," Jazz chuckled. "Not any of them, but the youngling, Bluestreak, and I have met before. You've met him too, in Antihex."

"You mean the two..."

Jazz barely nodded.

"How the pit did you work that out?" Wheeljack demanded to know. "You were with him for less than three breems."

"Information received," Jazz answered. "And I met the other one earlier, although I didn't realise that until just now. They've both gone through some fairly serious upgrades since then, tougher, bulkier armour for a start."

"So who's the other?"

"He's Optimus' second in command, and he has no idea who I am. Hopefully it'll stay that way. I know that you're used to me leading from the front, but I won't be doing that while we're here. I'm going to play on my exhaustion a little, keep a low profile for a while so that the rest of you can have some fun."

"You're sure?"

"It's that or we leave now, and that will probably draw more attention, especially if Sunny kicks off. Tell the others I'll give them four cycles if they behave. The rest is need to know only, any questions?"

"No sir," Wheeljack responded curtly. "But don't you think it would be better if..."

"No, I don't," Jazz interrupted. "Maybe one cycle way in the future, but not now."

"Jazz," Wheeljack said softly.

"I'm riding on my limits 'Jack, I can't do anymore than I'm doing," the black and white snapped. He wasn't angry, just frustrated and starting to really feel the energy drain caused by his self-repair systems.

"I was just going to say that you could, you know..." Wheeljack shuffled awkwardly, "I mean that I wouldn't mind."

A true smile crept onto Jazz's lip-components. "You're amazing 'Jack, you truly are, and I appreciate you saying that, but not yet."

"You sure?" Wheeljack said lightly as they finally reached their quarters.

"No," Jazz said honestly, "but let's be realistic for once; he and I have shared a few breems of a very intense cycle and one kiss, I doubt he even remembers me, and my relationship history speaks for itself."

Wheeljack knew that pushing harder would just encourage Jazz to push back, and that it could get ugly, so he threw his hands up in over-exaggerated surrender, and hustled Jazz along. Jazz smiled to himself as he walked. It felt good to know that some things hadn't changed; Wheeljack mightn't share his berth anymore, but he would always be there to look after him.


	31. Chapter 31

**A.N:** This chapter has been so much fun to write, but I'm still nervous about posting it because from here there is no going back. To be honest Jazz and 'Jack's relationship lasted longer, and went deeper than I intended, but as I've said before I don't think I have any real control over what happens in my stories. Maybe someone will write a story where it works out for them, and I'll look forward to reading it.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Part 31<strong>

Once again the rec room was heaving. News that Jazz and his unit would be leaving in the morning had spread like wildfire, and it seemed as if half of Iacon had turned out to send them off.

Jazz wasn't fooled. Unlike Wheeljack, who was rather bemused by the turn out, he understood that a party was a party, and any reason to celebrate was better than none. He suspected that Blaster, who had once again taken it upon himself to supply the music had a lot to do with the number of 'bots in attendance. He didn't mind, it was good to see his friends, and allies, enjoying themselves, but he felt like an outsider looking in. His self-imposed social exile meant that he didn't know many 'bots at all.

_A few vorns ago I would have been the centre of attention at a party like this, _he thought regretfully._ Everyone would have wanted to know me then._

"Don't you trust them?" a voice inquired.

Jazz looked around in surprise. He had thought that the corner he had chosen for himself was unobtrusive enough to escape notice.

"You're watching them as if you're expecting an attack." The voice belonged to Prowl, and Jazz briefly wondered what cruel game Primus was playing.

"I just don't know them," Jazz excused himself.

"I heard that you've been taking sometime to recover," Prowl said stiffly.

"More to relax. The last few vorns have been tough, it's important to take some time for yourself once in a while, don't you think?" He thought that he already knew the answer, Prowl had a reputation for being a hard worker.

"If we ever lose those precious moments then we might as well surrender," Prowl answered immediately, "without them we have nothing; no reason to fight, or to live."

Jazz was more than surprised. What Prowl had said didn't fit with what Jazz knew of him, and neither did the flash of a smile that Prowl gave him. _It seems there's another side to this mech, _he mused,_ the side that kissed me so fiercely all those vorns ago perhaps._

"Hey Jazz!" It was Sideswipe who interrupted his thoughts. Jazz was almost grateful.

"What's happening Sides?" he asked brightly.

"Blaster's making some noise about there not being a 'bot on the base that can move to a beat," the red twin reported. His optics were bright with too much high-grade. "I seem to remember that you danced pretty well, reckon you can take him?"

"I can take him apart," Jazz grinned, "but what's in it for me?"

"Sunny and I can cut you in on the profits. Make a show of it and we should make a few hundred credits."

"I never had much interest in currency," Jazz said lazily, and he saw Prowl bite down a smile; it seemed that he was already at least one step ahead of Sideswipe. Jazz wasn't surprised, he'd always credited Prowl with intelligence, but he was delighted to discover that he had a sense of humour too.

"Then what do you want?" Sideswipe asked. He didn't quite manage to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"A promise," Jazz answered with a wicked smile. He couldn't help taking pleasure in the way Sideswipe suddenly stiffened. "When I'm done you are going to take Mirage back to his quarters, and give him the night of his life."

Sideswipe's grin reasserted itself. "That's a good idea. You're on."

Jazz smiled to himself, and moved to his feet with an easy grace. _This is going to be fun,_ he thought as he swaggered across the room to where Blaster was waiting impatiently. Neither of them spoke, but they exchanged confident smiles as the music started.

The pulsing rhythm seemed to go straight to Jazz's feet, and he lost himself in the beat, surrendered to it and let it guide him. He had made himself forget how good it felt to do so.

It took him a while to notice that Blaster's show seemed to be mostly for one mech, but the moment he did an idea struck him. _Dancing alone is wonderful, but dancing with someone else..._

He reached out behind him, not even looking looking to see who who he grabbed, although he knew that both Sideswipe and Wheeljack were in that area, he had danced with both of them previously, and knew they could just about keep up with him, but the hand he found was unfamiliar.

Without breaking the rhythm of his step he guided the mech around, and nearly swallowed his own vocaliser when he saw that it was Prowl. _Of all the mechs..._ he thought, but he wasn't about to stop. It was only later that he realised that he couldn't have stopped, even if he wanted to.

In a few steps Jazz had everything worked out. Prowl wasn't a dancer, but he was elegant. His poise was close to perfect if a little too controlled for Jazz's liking, but it was that self-same thing that made Jazz's cooling vents work harder. Prowl seemed to have an innate ability to follow his lead flawlessly, he was never too far away or too close, or was it not close enough. Jazz could feel the heat from Prowl's frame, but was never allowed to touch more than his hands. That, combined with the music was intoxicating.

The music slowed at the end and Jazz slipped into a more traditional step that Prowl picked up immediately, following him perfectly, and Jazz still couldn't work out if he was teasing him.

They finished nose to nose and Jazz found it an effort not to close the tiny gap and kiss Prowl. He longed for the intensity they had shared in Antihex, _but in front of a room full of Prowl's comrades is not the place,_ he reminded himself.

"You've probably just completely ruined an image that I've been crafting for vorns," Prowl said with a slight chuckle.

"I figured that you owed me," Jazz retorted nonchalantly.

Prowl's arched optic-ridge asked the question for him.

"With the twins safely ensconced with Mirage your rec room has a far greater chance of surviving the night." It didn't feel like the right time to mention that he had also saved Prowl's life in Antihex.

"I thought that was just Sideswipe's destination."

"Where one goes the other will follow." Jazz couldn't hide his smirk, and it only grew wider when he saw the shock on Prowl's faceplates. "I don't claim to understand them, and I'm not their keeper, but if they are happy so am I."

Blaster moved between them, pressing generous measures of high-grade into their hands as he did so. "I didn't know you had it in you Prowl," he said with a grin.

"You never asked," Prowl returned with a hint of a smile, "but to be fair I didn't know either."

Blaster laughed. "Drink up," he prompted.

Both black and white mechs looked at their drinks, neither of them trusted high-grade, but they weren't aware of their mutual trait, and the party wasn't the right time, or place, to discus it.

They drank, and as the fuel hit Jazz's systems memories he had buried deep in his processor flooded back. Memories of the mech he had been, and the social, indulgent, carefree life he had turned away from to become a warrior. He had been lucky then, his life had been so full of love, and he had cared for so many 'bots.

He looked at Prowl and saw the brave, intelligent, graceful mech who had entranced him beyond all others. He longed to touch those elegant lines, to see that handsome face lost in ecstasy. Prowl seemed to sense his desires, maybe he even returned them if the look in his optics was anything to go by, but Jazz didn't dare take that chance. He had made his choices, and moved on from that life.

There seemed to be only one thing he could do. He turned, and ran.

"Jazz!" he heard Prowl shout after him, once they were clear of the rec room. "Jazz! Come back!"

He couldn't do that. If he looked into those optics again his resolve would crumble, and he couldn't let that happen. No matter how much he wanted it to.

_Damn this world,_ the thought as he ran, _damn this war and this life for burning my dreams to ash. Because of it I have become the thing that I hate most, how can anyone love that? How can I love?_

He didn't even realise that he had no where left to run. The corridor ended in a pair of heavy double doors. Jazz skidded to a halt, but Prowl didn't manage to stop in time, and the impressive doors that Jazz had assumed would be locked opened to allow them both to sprawl onto the hard floor in a tangle.

"What was that all...?" Prowl started to ask, but Jazz couldn't let him finish the question.

The kiss was searing. Prowl responded eagerly, hungrily and with so much need that it was almost overwhelming. Nothing compared to it, except perhaps the way Prowl's hands ran up Jazz's thighs, across his chest and settled on the sensitive wires of Jazz's neck.

"Tell me to stop," Jazz whispered as he pushed Prowl onto his back and straddled him. "Tell me this is wrong."

Prowl pushed back, flipped them easily and pinning Jazz down. "It probably is," he said in a quiet tone that seemed completely at odds with his commanding demeanour, "but I don't care. Only one mech has ever kissed me like that, and unless I miss your guess you and he are one in the same. It's been a long time Switchback."

Jazz's intakes almost stalled. His next few words would decide whether he got what he wanted or arrested. "My name has always been Jazz. Switch was an invention, a means to an end."

Prowl seemed satisfied with the answer, and eased his grip slightly. Jazz took his chance and rolled himself back to his original position. "You won't beat me," he stated plainly, as he searched out the places on Prowl's body that made the tactician's cooling systems work harder. The noise was music to Jazz's audios.

"Does it matter who wins if we both get what we want?" The innocence in Prowl's tone was almost believable.

"We'll both enjoy this, but I'll be taking what I want first," Jazz hissed back, "I want to hear you cry out my name as you overload."

Prowl's optics widened in surprise. Jazz had a fleeting thought that maybe he was moving too fast, the little he knew of Prowl depicted a conservative mech who wouldn't usually go for a quick interface in a... wherever they were, but Jazz couldn't stop himself. He had never admitted to himself that he had wanted this moment, if he had it would have haunted him for far too long.

In only moments he felt Prowl start to writhe helplessly beneath him. The heat coming from Prowl's frame and his own overtaxed systems were making it hard for him to stay in control. He wanted to lose himself in Prowl's circuits, entangle himself in the emotions and desires that passed along interface cables, but he needed control first. Submission never came easily to Jazz.

"Jazz!" Prowl cried out. His engine revved hard and his energy-field flared. The excess energy blazed through Jazz's circuits and almost took him over too. Jazz held on by shear strength of will, and watched Prowl's overload in delight.

Jazz sat back on his haunches, still straddling Prowl, but giving him time to recover. For the first time Jazz looked around him, and saw the grand room they had landed in.

"It's the Prime's audience chamber," Prowl's voice was still harshened by his overworked cooling vents as he answered Jazz's unspoken question.

"Do you come here often?" Jazz asked without really thinking about what he was saying.

"All the time," Prowl answered, his lip-components curling in amusement. "Usually in a more formal capacity though."

Jazz had to fight down a laugh. The high-grade was starting to wear off and the absurdity of the situation was hitting him full-force. "We should probably get out of here," he suggested and Prowl nodded.

Once they were out of the audience chamber Prowl took the lead, which was logical as Prowl knew the installation far better than Jazz, but Jazz soon realised that they weren't heading for the living quarters. He was just about to ask Prowl where they were going when he keyed open a door, and led Jazz inside.

"Is this your office?" Jazz asked, hoping that he didn't sound too stupid.

"I'm not risking the gossip by taking you to my rooms," Prowl answered as he stepped in close again. "You've done quite enough damage to my reputation already."

"You weren't complaining a breem ago," Jazz said with a playful smile.

"I'm just making things clear," Prowl returned cheerfully. He pressed a button and a large berth unfolded itself from the wall. Jazz couldn't quite hide his surprise and Prowl shrugged. "I regularly work late and start early. Optimus put the berth in after he caught me recharging at my desk once too often."

Jazz found himself wondering whether or not the berth would be big enough to accommodate the Prime; it certainly seemed too large for just Prowl. _It might be a squeeze,_ Jazz decided, _does that mean they were lovers?_ He shook his head and dismissed the thought, it didn't matter anyway, and he was fairly sure that the thought only occurred to him because of the last dregs of high-grade still in his system.

Wearily Prowl lay down on the berth and held out an arm in an invitation for Jazz to join him. It occurred to Jazz that unlike himself Prowl had been working hard for the last few cycles, and he decided the best thing he could do was just go with the flow. He lay down beside the tactician, and was surprised by how comfortably they fitted together.

They shared long lingering kisses and touches that were slower than before, less desperate and more sensual. Jazz felt as if his whole body was being explored, mapped out and memorised. Prowl was nothing if not an attentive lover, and Jazz's circuits sang as Prowl's hands wandered across his frame, tripping his tactile sensors until they ghosted across the panel that protected his interface cable.

As he connected their cables Jazz couldn't quite believe what he was doing. It was as if he had gone back in time, that he was once again the happy, carefree mech who lived his life as one long party, and loved fearlessly.

Their overload was less forceful than the one Prowl had enjoyed earlier, but Jazz had to admit that it was certainly one of the best of his life, and afterwards they lay in each others arms and shared a few lazy, gentle kisses before they fell into recharge.

* * *

><p>Jazz came back online much later. He'd gotten so used to surviving on little recharge that he found he didn't need as much as he used to. For a moment he wondered where he was, but he quickly decided that it didn't matter; he was happy, relaxed, and comfortable. Even as he came to that conclusion panic ripped through him; he was too happy, so at peace that he could barely imagine leaving, but that in itself was dangerous.<p>

He eased himself out from under Prowl's arm reluctantly, and took one last look at the still recharging mech wishing desperately that he didn't have to leave before he turned and ran from the room, activating his comm-link as he moved silently down the hall. _"'Jack,"_ he called urgently, _"'Breaker, Sides, come in."_

"_What is it?"_ Wheeljack asked grouchily as Sideswipe and Trailbreaker acknowledged the signal.

"_Wrap things up, we're leaving."_

"_What?" _Trailbreaker demanded to know.

"_Why?"_ Wheeljack asked at the same time.

"_Doesn't matter, you have your orders."_

"_By the way things were going last time we saw them," _Sideswipe said with some amusement, _"I'm betting that he either fragged Prowl, or he's still running from him."_

"_Sides,"_ Wheeljack hissed.

"_What? If I was wrong he would have denied something by now."_

"_If he'd fragged him he wouldn't be running,"_ Sunstreaker butted in.

"_Maybe it wasn't very good,"_ Sideswipe pointed out.

"_'Jack,"_ Jazz said desperately.

"_You have orders,"_ Wheeljack reminded them gruffly. _"Follow them!"_

"_Yes sir,"_ came the chorus. Trailbreaker's and the twin's signals disappeared, but Wheeljack's didn't. _"So what happened?" _he asked curiously.

"_Would swearing to you that Prowl is in his berth be enough?"_

"_Not really,"_ Wheeljack responded. _"Does that mean that Sides' was right?"_

"_How much do you win if he is?"_

"_Nothing. I bet against you, longer odds."_

"_You lost," _Jazz informed him. _"And Prowl was everything I dreamed he would be and more."_

"_Then why are we running?"_

"_Because I came back online and wanted to stay there forever."_

"_Maybe it would be better if you did," _Wheeljack suggested.

"_You're probably right,"_ Jazz admitted, _"but now isn't the time. I want to be with him and know that we have a future, at the moment there is no future."_

No one looked at Jazz as he boarded Steelhaven, Sunstreaker even turned and stomped down towards the cargo bay. For a moment he was stunned, and unsure how to continue. "I'm sorry your leave was cut short," he said, although he knew it wasn't enough. "But you all knew that we weren't staying."

At Wheeljack's nod Hound, Mirage and Sideswipe moved to the helm, and closed the door leaving Jazz, Trailbreaker and Wheeljack alone.

"It's only really Sunstreaker who's annoyed with you for yanking us out of Iacon," Trailbreaker said quietly, "although I have to say that Hound and I were enjoying having time to ourselves."

"We all were," Jazz admitted, "but all good things must come to an end. Let's go find out what Megatron's been up to."


	32. Chapter 32

**Part 32**

Despite the amount of time that he seemed to spend helping out in them, Wheeljack had never felt entirely comfortable in a med-bay. He wasn't a medic, he didn't have their programming or training, but his scientific background meant that he knew enough to be useful, so he was often drafted in when his unit returned to the city for a few cycles rest. All this only confirmed Wheeljack's long held belief that a little knowledge was a dangerous thing.

His current shift in the Nova Cronum med-bay had been thankfully uneventful. He had only had to patch up a few dented new recruits, and run a few routine medical checks, he was almost enjoying himself, but his spark sank when the warning came through that casualties were inbound.

He hated the moments lost in waiting, but when the bay doors opened to admit the unfortunate mechs he felt worse.

"Roadbuster," he gasped as he realised who was on the first stretcher. "Primus mech, what happened to you?" His friend was in bad shape, but at least he was conscious, which was more than could be said for the next mech. In fact the only member of the Wreckers who made it into the med-bay under his own power was Topspin, who was fussing at his brother's berth-side before Roadbuster could focus his optics.

"Ambushed," Roadbuster croaked, "we never saw them coming," his optics darkened, and the sorrow that Wheeljack saw in them tugged at his spark.

"Easy there my friend," he said soothingly, "you're safe now."

"Impactor was hit first," Roadbuster continued brokenly, "he died in my arms before Topspin could get to us, we knew we were outmatched and tried to get back the the Xantium, but Rack'n'Ruin refused to leave him, and the 'Cons gunned him down." Roadbuster shuddered. "We've lost mechs before, but I've never had to watch them die. I was injured myself by then. I've never felt so helpless."

Wheeljack sat down on the edge of his berth, he knew that there was nothing he could say, but he hoped that his proximity would comfort Roadbuster a little.

"That's not even the worst of it," Roadbuster pushed on, "Broadside was already airborne, he told us that he'd shadow us back, and give us some cover-fire until he could board safely, but Seekers piled onto him and forced him to land. Topspin had to put Whirl into stasis before he hurt himself more than he was already, he was frantic and I don't blame him. We didn't pull Broadside out of the Pit to watch him get pulled back in."

"Where were you?" Wheeljack asked.

"Vos."

"Shockwave," Wheeljack murmured. He could feel the dread seep into his circuits even as he said the fearsome mech's name. His own unit's only encounter with Shockwave had been brief but terrifying, and had left them all badly shaken, especially Jazz. He pushed away his fear and took Roadbuster's hand. "I'm going to tell Jazz what's happened. I'm sure he'll take it up. In the meantime try to rest, and do as the medics tell you." After that he only paused to lay a sympathetic hand on Topspin's shoulder before he ran out of the room, and commed his commander to find out where he was.

Less than a breem later Jazz met him halfway between the med-bay and their shuttle, where Wheeljack quickly related everything Roadbuster had told him. By the time he finished Jazz was leaning against a wall and looking ready to purge his tanks, but then the commander in him took over.

"Get everyone aboard Steelhaven, tell 'Breaker I want to be airborne in five breems, I'm going to see Roadbuster, but I'll catch up with you as soon as I can."

Wheeljack nodded once and hurried onwards, calling over the comms for the rest of the unit, and getting answers long before he reached his lab, where he snatched up a few useful items and ran out again.

Steelhaven seemed to be waiting for him by the time he reached her. He could hear her systems starting to power up as he stepped aboard, and found Hound and Trailbreaker at the helm. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe arrived almost on his heals, and with Mirage in Iacon again the unit was complete. He quickly filled them in.

They all reacted in a similar manner to Jazz, looking scared and worried, but pulled themselves back together quickly and voiced their determination. As Trailbreaker turned to resume his preflight checks Jazz joined them, and greeted them with a grim look on his face-plates.

"Thank you for responding so quickly," he said genuinely. "Get us in the air 'Breaker."

"Not without me," a quiet voice protested, and they turned as one to find Topspin standing in the hatch-way.

"You can barely stand," Jazz pointed out.

The Wrecker pulled himself up to stand a little straighter, and although the exhaustion was still clear in his optics he refused to move. "Impactor practically raised me and Twintwist. I can't sit by while the mech responsible for his death is still out there."

"This isn't a revenge mission," Jazz stated calmly. He could understand the other mech's point, but he wasn't sure about taking on a mech who was fuelled by grief. "We're going to get Broadside back. He's our priority, if we can give Shockwave a kick in the aft on our way out we will, but I've been in his claws, and I cannot leave another mech there. If you want to come with us as a medic, and are willing to stay aboard Steelhaven unless I call for you, then fine, that'll be a big help, but if you can't do that then you're slowing me down."

"It's your show sir," Topspin said sincerely.

"Welcome aboard," Jazz nodded. The fact that this was the first time that any of the Wreckers had called him 'sir' wasn't lost on him. Until that point most of them had treated him as an equal at best, Impactor himself had even called him 'youngling' on occasion, but in that moment Topspin was seeing him as a commander.

"'Breaker," he called again, and without further instruction the deep rumble of the engines shuddered through hull as the shuttle as it lifted off.

* * *

><p>Jazz steeled himself as he strode into the rear cabin. "This is it mechs," he barked. "Last chance to back out."<p>

"No way," Sideswipe said instantly.

"You'll only go in alone if we leave you," Sunstreaker added.

Jazz smiled and looked at the other two occupants of the cabin. Trailbreaker was at the helm giving Topspin a lecture on how to launch, land, and fly his shuttle. Jazz felt sorry for the Wrecker; Trailbreaker could be an intimidating mech when the mood took him.

"We're with you," Hound said, and the determination in his voice was clear.

"All the way," Wheeljack confirmed.

"Okay," Jazz nodded. "'Jack, you're up first, everything's primed, just pick something that looks important and light up the sky for me. Sunny, keep safe, think before you act and for the love of Primus try to get back here in one piece."

"Jazz," Wheeljack chided him, "you're fussing."

"Sorry," Jazz apologised instantly, "I just wish you'd let me handle the actual rescue."

Wheeljack chuckled. "I'm perfectly capable, and you and 'Breaker need to be at the Hub. Shockwave won't make it easy for us to sneak into his fortress, and extract one of his prisoners."

Jazz nodded in agreement, then looked at Sunstreaker. "Whatever happens you do not leave his side," he ordered.

* * *

><p>A few breems later Wheeljack and Sunstreaker were the first pair to leave the shuttle, Sideswipe and Hound disembarked a few moments later. Jazz watched them all go, and prayed that he would be seeing them again soon; out of all of the Decepticon cities Vos was the one that any Autobot with a functional processor feared the most. "'Breaker," he called, "stop acting like you're handing over your first sparked, and get ready. The next stop is ours."<p>

* * *

><p>Topspin flew in low and slow to give Jazz and Trailbreaker a chance to jump clear, then banked hard to avoid the city's detection grid. Trailbreaker pulled a face as the engine whined, but said nothing as he and Jazz moved off.<p>

As Jazz stalked through the city he decided that what he hated most about Vos was it's silence. Even before the war the city had been small and quiet, the home of a mostly scientific community. Their research had been the reason why Shockwave had taken command, but he hadn't wanted the inhabitants, only a few of the faceless mech's underlings still lived there. Anything that Shockwave deemed menial labour was done by drones, and because of those factors even the hub was devoid of chatter.

This presented a unique problem for Jazz's unit. Usually they could lose their communications in the vast amounts of data, but in Vos there was nowhere for them to hide. The only advantage they had was that drones were easily confused, and distracted. Jazz could only hope that he and his unit could get them running in enough circles to sneak out one of the largest mechs he had ever met.

"I wonder who was the last 'bot to laugh in this city," Trailbreaker mused, as they passed a wide road that had once led to the city's Great Arena, the only place in the city which had ever felt loud enough to Jazz.

"It could have been either of us," Jazz suggested, "we were both here not long before it fell, or Akron, he was with us then. He always laughed a lot."

It had been so long since Jazz had said their lost friend's name that for a moment Trailbreaker had no idea how to respond. Akron and Jazz had laughed long and hard during their time together aboard Trailbreaker's shuttle, Haven as she had been called then, and Trailbreaker had been the only other mech who had known the joke.

The gossip sections of the news feeds had gone into overdrive when Akron, the only creation of the Lord of Uraya, had flown off on a cargo shuttle with a talented, but still relatively unknown singer. Trailbreaker had achieved minor celebratory status himself just for being their friend, and refuelled on some of the finest high-grade on the planet thanks to the reporters, but he'd never told them anything they didn't already know.

Jazz and Akron had treated the whole thing as a game, and they had played it well. Akron had used his time in the news to highlight unfairness where he found it, and set up charities to help the less fortunate, while Jazz stood at his shoulder, helped as much as he could and earned a name for himself.

Trailbreaker could only look back on those cycles fondly as he and Jazz slipped quietly through the city. He couldn't decide whether luck was on their side, or if it was Shockwave's over-confidence that allowed them to get to the hub without being seen, but he was pleased that they were there, and quietly delighted with the way that Jazz quickly sent the drones scuttling all over the city.

For as long as the larger mech had known Jazz the black and white had had a talent for chaos, and, not for the first time Trailbreaker thanked Primus that he and Jazz were on the same side.

* * *

><p>As Wheeljack understood it most species had their own version of eternal torment, a place for all the damned souls to go when their bodies gave out so that they could suffer for their sins. On Cybertron purgatory was known as the Smelting Pit, a boiling, bottomless pool of molten metal, which all mechs feared.<p>

Shockwave, it seemed, had translated the Covenant of Primus his own way, taken it's description of the inferno, and created a prison in it's image. There were few walls and no cells, just a pit with a high, enclosed walkway for the guards, a low one for the prisoners, which didn't have any sort of barrier, and liquid oblivion.

Wheeljack had heard the horror stories coming out of Vos for vorns, but he'd always thought that they were exaggerations until he saw it with his own optics. No one had stopped them until then, which was largely because Sunstreaker played the part of his alter-ego so well. No one wanted to mess with Rage. He had such an arrogance about him, a way of making every movement seem like a threat. Wheeljack admired those qualities, but had never discovered how to emulated them.

The mechs that watched over the prisoners were braver than most though, and stepped out to block their way. "Password!" one demanded.

Wheeljack had never thought that Shockwave might use such an outdated mode of verification, maybe it was some sort of test, but as he glanced out over the pit and met Broadside's optics only three words presented themselves. "Wreck and rule!" he roared, and he was delighted to see Broadside surge towards the exit, with another mech close behind him.

The mech who had challenged them was dead before Wheeljack had finished, and his partner lasted only a spark-pulse longer. Once more Wheeljack found himself feeling both appalled and awed by Sunstreaker's capacity for violence. He'd never questioned the golden mech's loyalty, but there were times when he worried about Sunstreaker's hostile mentality.

Without a word he set to work on the force-field that held the only exit to the pit. A few moments later, and before he could turn away from the console, he felt himself being pulled into a crushing hug. "Good to see you too Broadside," he said warmly, "could you let me go before you cave in my chest-plate?"

"Sorry," the big mech apologised, "but you have no idea how horrible the last cycle or so has been. Tell me, please, what happened to the other Wreckers?"

"Roadbuster, Whirl, and Twintwist are all in Nova's med-bay, Topspin wanted to help us so Jazz let him pilot," Wheeljack informed him. He was happy enough giving Broadside the good news, but he hesitated before passing on the bad.

Broadside clapped him on the shoulder, making him stagger, and nodded sadly. "You don't have to say the rest. Primus knows what we're going to do without Impactor, and Rack'n'Ruin will be sorely missed, but I suppose we have to focus on the positives." He shook himself and glanced over his shoulder to the green mech, who had been his only company since he had been imprisoned. "This is Springer, do you know him?"

"Haven't had the pleasure," Wheeljack responded as he extended his hand. "I'm Wheeljack, this is Sunstreaker, and I promise you we are Autobots," he added gesturing to their current paint-jobs and Decepticon decals.

"Thank you," Springer grinned. "My worst fear has been dying in there." He looked back at the cell and shuddered. "No one should suffer that place."

"No one else will have to," Wheeljack said grimly, as he removed two high-power grenades from his sub-space. "Would you like to do the honours?"

Broadside and Springer took one each. "For Impactor, and Rack'n'Ruin," Broadside said grimly.

"And any other poor, lost sparks who weren't as lucky as us," Springer added. He hefted the grenade once, then threw it into the pit with all his strength, Broadside's sailed in along with it, and the four mechs ran in the opposite direction.

"I thought we'd be having more trouble than this," Broadside observed as the sped away from the complex.

"Can you access the hub?" Wheeljack asked. "Jazz and 'Breaker have got Shockwave's drones running in circles. Shockwave is furious, but he's been trapped in his lab by Hound and Sideswipe." He grinned at Sunstreaker. "I've cursed your brother's knack for locks in the past, but there are cycles when it comes in useful."

If Sunstreaker bothered to reply his words were drowned out by Broadside's laughter. Springer chuckled too, before dropping down into his alt-mode. For a moment he carried on at ground level, but suddenly his plates shifted again, and he soared into the sky.

Wheeljack watched curiously, and with more than a little envy. He could fly short distances himself thanks to boosters he'd picked up on his first mission, but he knew he was slow, and vulnerable in the air; Springer had no such concerns, and appeared to have enough speed and manoeuvrability to rival most Seekers.

"That was why Shockwave wanted us," Broadside explained. "He wants to up-grade some of his underlings, but he needed a couple of test subjects first. I suppose we were lucky that he didn't just melt us down, but I wouldn't recommend spending any time in his lab."

"There are mechs who would say the same about mine," Wheeljack said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"At least you don't experiment on someone if they come to visit you," Broadside ventured.

Sunstreaker merely arched an optic-ridge at Wheeljack, dropped into his own alt-mode and shadowed Springer toward the outskirts of the city.

The only drones they saw were literally spinning in circles, much to Broadside's amusement, and after a breem or so Wheeljack signalled that they were safe, so his team-mates could leave their posts, and Steelhaven could come in. They clambered aboard through the cargo-bay doors, the only ones big enough to allow Broadside to enter. He looked around, seemed to realise that he was never going to fit anywhere else, and sat down to the floor.

Half a breem later Jazz and the rest of his unit scrambled aboard, and he rose again to greet them warmly. Jazz assured him that he was more than welcome, Trailbreaker ran up to the helm, and Topspin descended the narrow steps with a whoop of joy to pile into his team-mate.

Springer moved forward, then stopped dead as Jazz deactivated his camouflage paint. "I've never seen anything like that before," he exclaimed.

"Wheeljack's our resident genius," Jazz explained. "Welcome aboard Springer?"

The green mech gave him a puzzled look. "Do you know me?"

"Next time you're in Iacon tell Prowl that I do read the intel reports sometimes, and yours have helped us out more than once," Jazz answered with a grin.

"Good to know," Springer said with a satisfied smirk. "I've got to say that it's a nice set up you've got here."

"Thank you," Jazz said graciously. He gestured to the table, and Springer took the invitation to sit down. A moment later Jazz handed him a ration of energon, and took a seat opposite him. "Do you have anything you need to tell me?" he asked seriously.

"I wish I did," Springer confessed. "I've been hearing rumours for ages; a rift between Shockwave and Megatron, Shockwave making his own plans, and weapons. Going into Vos was a risk, I knew Magnus would never approve it, so I told him I was taking some leave. Stupid really, but I had to try."

"We all know that feeling well enough," Jazz agreed. He admired Springer's courage, but he worried that the green mech had been working alone for too long. Somewhere in the back of his processor an idea began to take shape, but it relied on unknown factors, so he said nothing on the subject, and moved on. "I've picked up the same rumours, but Shockwave covers his aft better than any mech I know."

"We could just have him taken out," Springer said with a grin. "Do you know any good mercs?"

"Not really my line," Jazz answered good humouredly. "My crew may look like a rabble, but they're really just mechs trying to survive a war."

"I hear you," Springer grinned. "One question, where are we going?"

Jazz laughed. Most mechs would have asked that question first, but Springer didn't seem too bothered about his destination, so long as he was going somewhere. It was an ideology that Jazz could relate to. "We have to drop Broadside off at Nova Cronum. I'd offer you a lift to where ever you want to go, but if there's a memorial for Impactor and Rack..."

"Understood," Springer interrupted him. "The way Broadside was talking about them while we were in the pit I feel as if I owe them something myself. It's a sad thing to know that if the Wreckers hadn't been ambushed I'd still be staring into the Pit."

"Focus in the positive," Jazz advised. "Impactor would."

* * *

><p>It was so late in the cycle, by the time Steelhaven came in to land, that it was almost early in the next one. Her crew were all exhausted, but they had to agree that their fatigue was worth it. Especially when they saw Whirl limping towards them as they disembarked.<p>

Broadside lifted the slender mech into his arms, as if he was nothing more than a sparkling, but he held him tenderly, and as if he never intended to let go.

Jazz smiled to himself and turned to Roadbuster, who was leading the others toward him. "Makes it all worth while, doesn't it?" he said cheerfully.

"Most of it," Roadbuster said quietly. His losses went unspoken, but Jazz could see them in his optics, as well as something Jazz had never seen from any Wrecker before; uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said, although he knew it wasn't enough. "They will be missed, and remembered."

"I suppose that's the best that any of us can hope for at the end," Roadbuster murmured.

Jazz gave him a worried look, but the Wrecker dismissed it, and turned towards the other members of his unit.

_He thinks that they are his responsibility now,_ Jazz realised, _but they're too used to seeing him as a friend, they'll never accept him as a commander. He'll make a great second in command though._

Within a few moments the rest of his unit had dispersed, but Jazz stayed to discretely watch the Wreckers. He had long admired all of them; their courage, their commitment to the cause, and of coarse the fact that they were all heroes, but they were a _unit_. They lived, worked and fought as one. To Jazz the idea of them minus just one would be like trying to play a musical instrument with only one hand. The Wreckers had lost two, and he could only hope that they would find some way to carry on.

* * *

><p>The mood of Nova Cronum was suitably solemn when Jazz made his way through the city. He had attended similar ceremonies before, but never for mechs as well-known as Impactor and Rack'n'Ruin.<p>

Impactor had become a legend long before Jazz had become an Autobot, he had heard the mech's stories while he was still in training, but Jazz had never considered him to be a friend. Impactor was so convinced of his own superiority that he had looked down on Jazz from the outset, what ever Jazz did to prove himself, but it was hard for him to like a mech who treated him like a sparkling who had been caught out of his berth too late.

Rack'n'Ruin was a different story. A unique mech, so far as Jazz knew. Jazz had spent their first meeting trying not to stare at the two mechs joined from shoulder to hip. He knew the story, everyone did, of how the then two mechs had been almost deactivated by a grenade meant for Impactor, leaving their opposite sides damaged beyond repair, Impactor himself had saved them when he suggested joining them together so that their damaged sparks could sustain each other, but they had been more than that to Jazz.

He had discovered their love of music in Kaon vorns earlier, and once they had found common ground the rest had been easy. They had traded songs, Ruin had kept him laughing, while Rack, the more serious of the two, had given Jazz someone who would listen to his problems when the world became too heavy to carry on his shoulders.

Jazz would miss them both, and he felt some satisfaction in the fact that he liked both of them for different reasons.

He met most of his unit in one of the small plazas of the city. Mirage had chosen the meeting point. His transport from Iacon had only arrived a few breems earlier, and he had insisted that they meet somewhere beautiful, or as close to it as Nova Cronum possessed. He was lounging contentedly between the twins.

"Good to see you again Mirage," Jazz said formally, and his propriety earned him a smile from the blue and white mech.

"I only wish it were under happier circumstances," Mirage responded. His true concerns went unsaid, but Jazz could read them in his optics; if the worst could happen to the Wreckers, it could happen to anyone. Jazz had been having similar thoughts himself. The Wreckers, and Impactor in particular, had always seemed invisible. His unit were mere upstarts in comparison.

He glanced over at Hound and Trailbreaker, and smiled. It may have been a grim cycle, but those two gave him hope. If there was any justice in the world they deserved a happy ending, and Jazz had long ago resolved to give them every chance.

_Primus watch over them,_ he prayed as he led them off to Nova Cronum's central courtyard.

The whole yard had been decked out in red flags to represent the Autobot cause, and in the centre a hologram of the Wrecker's personal insignia bathed the crowd in it's blue glow.

The Wreckers themselves were greeting everyone as they approached. Topspin and Twintwist stood as honour guards. Behind them Roadbuster, as the longest serving Wrecker, shook hands and accepted condolences, with Wheeljack at his side.

Jazz knew that as unit commander he was expected to say something meaningful, but when he met Roadbuster's optics words failed him, and instead of saying anything he pulled the grey mech into a tight hug. His actions seemed to make his point perfectly, and when they pulled apart Roadbuster's optics were bright with emotion.

Over the vorns Roadbuster and Jazz had butted heads more than once, usually over Wheeljack's affections, although that was obsolete as Wheeljack had chosen someone else, and for the first time Jazz realised that, while they would probably never be close friends, their rivalries had never been malicious, and if Jazz was honest their competitions had been a welcome distraction from his duties. He could only hope that Roadbuster felt the same.

Whirl and Broadside were waiting patiently a little further on. The newest Wreckers had been serving for a couple of vorns; long enough to be devastated by the loss of their commander, but not so long that they couldn't imagine their lives without him, which was why Jazz was more interested in talking to them.

"I need a favour," he said quietly, once he'd offered his condolences.

"Name it," Broadside said eagerly. "I owe you more than one."

"Help me keep Springer company. He's looking a little lost. I don't think he knows anyone here."

"Sure thing," Whirl assured him. "It's the least we can do to thank him for looking after Broad."

Broadside gave his partner an indulgent smile, which left Jazz wondering whether Broadside hadn't told him much about his captivity, or if Whirl hadn't understood. Everyone knew that Whirl's grip on reality was tenuous at best.

"Thank you," Jazz said graciously, before he rejoined the rest of his unit near the front of the crowd, just as Ultra Magnus took his place at the podium.

To be fair Jazz tried to listen, but he knew the speech, he'd heard it before. The dead were at peace, they should be honoured as heroes, and remembered by their allies as they continued the fight.

The sentiment was right, but Jazz felt that Impactor and Rack'n'Ruin deserved more. After a while he realised that it was the lack of emotion that bothered him. Ultra Magnus' intakes never hitched, he didn't pause to collect himself, and his optics remained exactly the same colour from beginning to end.

When Ultra Magnus stepped down there was the traditional moment of silence, and Jazz found himself truly praying. He prayed for the lives lost, for the strength to carry on. He pleaded with Primus for an end to the war, and to protect his friends, and gave thanks for the good things in his life. Again, it didn't feel like enough. His prayers were spark-felt, but impersonal. He'd been saying the same things for vorns.

It took him a moment to realise that someone was humming. He tilted his head slightly to help him find the source, and realised that it was Roadbuster, who was standing a row in front of him. Jazz recognised the tune almost immediately, although the Wrecker was slightly off-key.

The song was old, a traditional tune almost as ancient as Cybertron itself. Everyone knew it, even if they couldn't remember when they had learnt it. In his time as a musician Jazz had discovered that some called it _lost spark,_or _dear spark,_but he had always known it as _free spark, _and thought it strange that there was no official title, but he could see how each of them would fit.

Jazz picked up the rhythm in a few beats, pulled himself straight, and sang.

Roadbuster glanced over his shoulder. He looked surprised, but pleased. His optics brightened with emotion as others fell in a few at a time.

By the chorus every mech in the crowd had raised his voice. Few of them matched Jazz's perfect pitch, but that didn't matter. Those whose timbre was too high were balanced out by the ones who were too low, gruff voices were rounded off with purer tones.

The effect was spectacular. A symphony of voices that could easily have become a cacophony. Jazz had never heard anything like it before in his life, and doubted he ever would again.

After the last note faded away the crowd began to break up, and socialise. Serving mechs handed out generous servings of energon, a rare treat in a city where fuel was heavily rationed, and although Jazz did hear a few mechs grumbling over the lack of high-grade, he was actually quietly pleased with the well-refined mid-grade he was offered.

As Jazz gathered up his unit to leave Wheeljack came wandering over, Jazz had half expected him to stay a while longer, but Wheeljack dismissed his curious look, and tilted his head towards the Wreckers.

Springer was stood among the others, looking comfortable as he chatted with the usually quiet Roadbuster.

"Have you been matchmaking again?" Wheeljack asked.

"I just think that Springer has been working on his own for too long," Jazz answered honestly, "and the Wreckers need new members, whether they're ready to admit it or not. I'd never dream of telling them that, but I have no problem at all giving them a little shove, and if it doesn't work, well... what they don't know can't hurt me."

* * *

><p><span>A.n:<span> At last! I've never had so much trouble with a chapter in my life, it's been through three complete rewrites, and at the moment if I never see it again I'll be happy, but it's done.

I can only apologise, but I promised myself when I started posting these stories that I would never leave one unfinished, and I have made progress on most of the other chapters so hopefully you won't have too long to wait for an update, but I'm well aware that I've said that before.

Just a quick reminder to any Wrecker fans, I'm no expert on them, I just like playing with them, and after such a long hiatus I wanted to come back with a chapter that was more than just the filler it was supposed to be.

I think all that's left for me to say is thank you for you patience. Take care. FB.


	33. Chapter 33

A.n: Yes! I did it! I promised myself that I would post again before I went on holiday (I leave in a few hours for my first proper holiday in over ten years) and I did. I'll admit that it's a filler, but sometimes they are appropriate. Hope you like it, back in a couple of weeks, love ya. FB. X

* * *

><p><span><strong>Part 33<strong>

"Holy Primus," Mirage whispered, as he watched the explosion rip through the Decepticon outpost. "What have I done?"

Since rejoining the unit he and the others had been responsible for twenty-three similar detonations, and a handful of other tricks that had marked the end of as many installations, which were slowly creeping toward the capital, and the other cities that the Autobots still held.

The current mission should have been no different. For Mirage the destruction was an inevitable part of protecting his allies, and friends. Iacon was the symbol of everything the Autobots believed in, and it had to be defended, _no matter the cost_.

Mirage had heard those words more times than he could count. Usually they were delivered in the firm, powerful tones of Optimus Prime himself, but Jazz shared their leader's faith, and wasn't above borrowing another mech's words, if the situation required them. On this occasion the words seemed empty, and offered Mirage no comfort.

Whether there had been a fault, or a Decepticon had caused a problem Mirage didn't know. The only thing he knew for certain at that moment was that Jazz and Wheeljack were still inside the outpost.

"Primus have mercy," Trailbreaker muttered from the helm. "Hound?"

"On it," Hound responded sharply, "I've got life-signs, but there's too much interference to say more than that."

"Then I'd start praying about now," Trailbreaker said grimly.

"I've killed them both," Mirage whimpered.

"I don't believe that," Trailbreaker argued. "Jazz is tough, Wheeljack is smart. Together they're pretty much unstoppable."

Mirage tried to accept that Trailbreaker was probably right. Jazz had led his unit on more missions, and challenged more enemies than any other Autobot, except for the half-legendary Impactor of the Wreckers, who had been fighting the war far longer than his younger counterpart, but even Impactor had finally met odds that he couldn't beat, and that fact still haunted Mirage.

He tried to think of something other than Jazz's fate, but the only substitute his processor presented was Wheeljack, which only made him feel worse. While Wheeljack wasn't as celebrated, he still possessed one of the most advanced processors on Cybertron, and had created, or upgraded more gadgets than Mirage could possibly count.

_Surely Primus couldn't allow such mechs to die in an accident,_ Mirage prayed. An image of them laughing together earlier in the cycle floated unbidden into Mirage's processor. Without a word he turned, and ran to the waste disposal unit at the rear of the living quarters, where he purged his tanks and activated his invisibility drive, so that he wouldn't have anyone looking at him when he re-emerged.

As he crept back out of the small compartment Steelhaven's side door opened as Jazz and Wheeljack staggered inside. Both mechs were scratched, dented and filthy, but they were unmistakable alive.

He watched motionless as Trailbreaker and Hound rushed down from the helm to meet them. Hound fused over their scrapes, while Trailbreaker hugged them both, before he inquired if anything could be done for Jazz's cracked visor, which while superficial seemed to be the most serious injury.

"Fortunately I have a spare," Jazz informed him. "Take us out of here 'Breaker. Somewhere safe, but not too far. I'll brief you all in a few breems."

"Do you need a hand?" Wheeljack asked.

"It's easy enough to switch out," Jazz assured him, "and honestly, I could use a moment of peace."

Everyone aboard knew that Jazz hadn't recharged much in cycles, he rarely found the time when he was running missions, but to hear him admit it was something new.

Wheeljack led Hound and Trailbreaker back up to the helm, while Jazz headed in the opposite direction. Mirage was grateful that none of the others saw Jazz snatch his hand and pull him into the rear cabin, although he would have preferred it if Jazz hadn't noticed him at all.

"You should know by now that you can't hide from me," Jazz said as the door closed behind them. He didn't sound angry, but Mirage couldn't help wondering if he was disappointed.

The cabin had always been cramped. The large recharge pad, their lockers, and a small desk took up most of the floor space, but this time the room felt even tighter to Mirage, almost as if the walls were closing in. The next thing he knew Jazz was holding him tight.

"It wasn't your fault," Jazz assured him gently, "it's okay 'Raj. We're fine. We're all fine."

In Jazz's arms Mirage felt safe, and the easy rhythm of his voice gave him something to focus on. "What happened?" he managed to ask after a few moments.

"'Jack and I were just finishing up when some 'Con found us, he asked what we were doing, we said maintenance, but I guess he didn't believe us. He opened fire, we dodged, and he hit the console where you'd hidden the explosives."

"I thought I'd made a mistake, and killed you both," Mirage admitted. With his fears allayed he felt more foolish than anything.

"I'm the one that made the mistake," Jazz confided. "I saw a chance and ignored my own rules."

"I wasn't aware that you had any."

"First, no mission is worth a life, and second use every advantage possible," Jazz reeled off without hesitation. "I've always considered the bonds within our unit to be a great strength, and I've used them. Primus help me, but I even had that reason in the back of my processor when I was helping Hound and Trailbreaker to get ready to bond. What sort of mech would do that to his friends?"

"One who's trying to save their lives," Mirage answered instantly. He understood, probably better than anything else in the unit, that sometimes it was necessary to think rather than to feel. It interested him that Jazz had also reached this conclusion. Jazz was such an emotionally driven mech that Mirage had doubted him capable of such pure logic.

The smile that Jazz gave him in return was dazzling. A reminder of the mech whom Mirage had only met once, and still thought about from time to time. He had been such a gentle mech then, innocent of war and it's horrors. Mirage wished he had known Jazz better then.

"There are times when I wonder if it was all worth it," Jazz muttered, as he finally pulled away, and towards his locker.

"Then when you start to doubt yourself I would ask you to look at me," Mirage requested. "The others might have made their own way, but I would have died when Crystal City fell if it hadn't been for you."

"Does one good deed counter a thousand atrocities?" Jazz asked grimly.

"No," Mirage answered honestly, "but I believe that what you've done doesn't change who you are."

Instead of a reply Mirage heard a low click, then a loud crack. When he looked round Jazz was holding a piece of his broken visor in each hand, and a grateful look in his optics.

"You never changed them?" Mirage asked, although he knew the question was unnecessary. The Autobots never force anything on anyone, but every mech Mirage had met since he joined the faction had possessed blue optics. Jazz's were the startlingly bright gold of molten metal.

"I didn't need to," Jazz reminded him, holding up the fractured visor. "I realised pretty quickly that I'd have to change drastically to become the leader my mechs needed me to be. No more music, day-dreaming, breaking the rules, or 'facing any 'bot who took my fancy, but I had to keep one thing for myself, one secret, which exactly two other mechs know."

"Wheeljack and Trailbreaker," Mirage knew instantly. He felt honoured to be joining the small group of mechs who Jazz truly trusted, but he had also heard the warning in Jazz's tone and knew that he would never be forgiven if he told anyone.

"If you ever wanted to write the story of my life ask those two. They might not tell you everything, but they know it all."

"You would probably be surprised by how much I already know about you," Mirage said, as enigmatically as he could.

Jazz flashed him a self-satisfied grin. "No, I wouldn't," he said with a chuckle. "You may well be the master of behavioural observation, but I'm the mech who put you on this team."

Mirage smiled, and Jazz gave him a look that seemed to say that his work was done.

For a moment their optics met, and Mirage knew what Jazz was asking without saying a word. _A favour for a favour. Remember me for who I was; the mech who lived with music in spark. Remember the songs and the parties. The life that might have been. Remember and forgive me for leaving that mech behind._ Mirage nodded, and made his promise the same way it had been asked for.

Then the moment was gone, and Jazz's optics were hidden behind his new visor. Mirage couldn't help wondering how long it would be before anyone saw those golden optics again, and who would be the one to see them. He felt it was a shame that Jazz hid them away, but he understood the necessity. He'd never been able to read his commander, and friend, so well as he had in that brief time.

* * *

><p>Jazz slipped out of the rear cabin, and looked around. His new visor had a couple of upgrades, which he knew he should thank Wheeljack for, as he cycled through the range of settings. Better night-vision, heat detecting, emission readouts, and more. He could see more clearly than usual where he, Hound, Trailbreaker and Wheeljack had stood talking a few breems earlier.<p>

He smiled, and followed the energy trails through the small cabins of the living quarters, and down the narrow steps that led from the helm to the cargo hold, with Mirage walking silently behind him.

Steelhaven hadn't hauled anything, except Autobot refugees, since the refit that had changed her from a simple shuttle to a weapon, so her hold had become her crew's social area, training room, armoury, and pretty much anything else that needed space.

Jazz's unit were sat at a large table in the corner nearest the steps. Their evening energon was set out, along with piles of gambling chips, but no one was touching either.

"Thank you for waiting on us," Jazz said gratefully, as he took his place. "Where are we 'Breaker?"

"I think you'd call it 'the aft end of nowhere'" Trailbreaker said cheerfully. "Almost back to Autobot territory, but mega-miles from anything you'd call civilisation. I'll set her down for the night in a while, and we'll be safe for as long as you want."

"How about forever?" Jazz asked wistfully. He shook himself and straightened up. "Unfortunately that can't happen, but we'll stay here for tonight. You all seem to have settled in anyway."

"We've spent too much time with you and 'Breaker," Hound chipped in, "I think we all feel right at home."

Jazz smiled at Hound's words, and raised his energon to his unit, before taking his seat and joining an evening of relaxed gambling and banter.

The game went well for a while. Jazz was pleased with his progress, although Mirage had still amassed a larger pile of chips. The twins fortunes fluctuated wildly from one hand to the next. Wheeljack was playing more for fun than anything else, a serving of high-grade sat at his elbow, and when things went against him he laughed louder than anyone. While Jazz suspected that Hound and Trailbreaker were using their bond to help each other, but Hound's betting did become a little more adventurous after a shot or two of Wheeljack's high-grade, so Jazz didn't call them on it.

After a few hands Trailbreaker excused himself to set Steelhaven down for the night. The others carried on enjoying themselves, thinking that he would be back in a breem or so, but their smiles faded when Hound's attention slipped away from the game, and he started to look worried.

"What is it?" Jazz asked cautiously. He knew that Hound and Trailbreaker's bond was strong enough for them to communicate exact thoughts, but there was a possibility that it was a private matter, and he didn't want to intrude.

"Disbelief," Hound murmured. "He doesn't understand something, but I can't get what. He's too shaken up to think clearly." The green mech rose suddenly, but didn't get any further than the bottom of the steps that led up to the helm. "What happened?" he asked, as Trailbreaker's heavy foot-falls announced his return. Jazz moved to follow, but barely made it out of his seat.

Trailbreaker pulled Hound into a tight hug, and seemed to be using their bond to ease Hound's concern, before he turned, and looked at Jazz. "Sit down old friend," he said, in a kind, but firm tone, which none of the others could remember hearing him use before.

For a wonder Jazz, who was far more used to giving orders than getting them, sat. "Where?" he asked. He sometimes thought that it was strange that he used so few words when he spoke to his oldest friend, but most of the time he found it reassuring.

"Praxus," Trailbreaker answered. "The Decepticons attacked one flank while we were defending the other. I'm so sorry Jazz. The news feeds I picked up were four cycles old. There's nothing we can do, or could have done."

"We're still going," Jazz said firmly. "I need to see, I owe the city that much." He knew that Trailbreaker was right, but knowing didn't make him feel any better.

"As you wish," Trailbreaker nodded. He wasn't surprised. Jazz had always felt the need to bear witness. Trailbreaker himself didn't want to see what had befallen the city, but he understood that his duty wasn't anything to do with what he wanted.

* * *

><p>It took the rest of the night to reach their destination, and Jazz hardly spoke a word. He just sat near the helm as if willingly the shuttle to fly faster, and shrugged off any attempt the others made to lighten his mood.<p>

Eventually the ruins of Praxus came into view, and Jazz felt his spark ache. He didn't just see the remains of one of his many homes. It felt as if wasn't just Praxus that lay battered and beaten before him, but Uraya too.

It hurt him just to look from a distance, but in a way he was pleased that it did. The pain proved to him that he hadn't become completely sparkless.

No one spoke as they landed, or after. Jazz soon left them behind, only Trailbreaker and Wheeljack had any connection to the city, and he knew that they shared his sorrow to a point, but he didn't want them to see the extent of his grief. He wandered through the streets without thinking about where he was going, but when he saw the remains of the Crystal Gardens ahead of him he knew that he couldn't have gone anywhere else.

Everyone who had ever visited Praxus had known the effects of the garden, it infused the whole city with positive emotions, and it was for that reason that Trailbreaker had taken Jazz there after Symphony had died. Without those feelings of warmth and peace, which went beyond the usual care, Jazz was almost certain that he would have followed his bond-mate into the Matrix.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He felt foolish talking to the city itself, but the words threatened to go round his processor forever if he didn't let them out. "I never thanked you for saving my life, at the time I didn't think I ever would, but I want you to know that I am grateful now. +That broken mech who came here so many vorns ago is healed, and happy for the most part."

He started to turn away but as he moved something caught his optics. A shard of crystal a little longer than his hand was laying among the debris. Hesitantly he picked it up. He was afraid that it would crumble to fragments and dust as the rest had, but not even a scratch showed as he examined it. He placed it carefully in his subspace, and began the long walk back to Steelhaven. He was still saddened, and angered, by what had happened, but the swagger was back in his step. Beyond the city limits the horizon called to him.


	34. Chapter 34

**Part 34**

"Primus on a pulsar." Trailbreaker cursed, "Jazz, the Decepticons are everywhere. Nova Cronum is burning."

Jazz pushed his way to the helm, his faceplates tightened into an unreadable mask as he looked out of the view-port. "They're going to need all the help the can get, anyone who doesn't want to follow me into the inferno can get out now."

Sunstreaker was the only member of his unit who seemed to register the threat at the end of his statement, but he merely arched an optic ridge before he collected his rifle, and moved towards the hatch.

There was an air of solemnity in the movements of the unit. For almost as long as they had been together Nova Cronum had been the closest thing they had to a home, it was the only place they felt safe, and not one of them was prepared to see it fall.

"'Breaker, take us down, then get to the city..." He couldn't let his exhaustion show; his unit had pushed through mission after mission since their brief respite in Iacon, which felt like vorns ago, although it was barely half of one, but he knew they would have to wait a little longer before they could take their leave.

"Jazz!" Trailbreaker interrupted, for once sounding every inch as formidable than as he looked. "I don't want to offend anyone, I know that you're all warriors, but without my force-fields you may as well all just jump into the smelting pit. You need me with you."

For a moment Jazz stood rigid before he nodded. "So who's the pilot?"

"Either 'Jack or Hound, your choice."

"I'm not leaving," both mechs said as one, but they backed down slightly when Jazz and Trailbreaker rounded on them fiercely, although Trailbreaker let his unit commander do the talking he was clearly annoyed that both of them were protesting against the simple decision. He admired their loyalty, but their stubbornness frustrated him.

"One of you has to," Jazz reminded them. His decision was already made. "Now be quiet or I'll send both of you. Hound, you've got more experience at the helm, so you will go back, you can cover us for a while _if _you can do so safely, but the Seekers are far more manoeuvrable and confident in the air. Once you're back at the base you take the information we stole and load it into the mainframe, those files must reach Iacon, understood?"

Hound nodded grudgingly, and headed for the helm.

"At best we'll be a distraction," Jazz told the others, "but that might be enough. Make your peace and form up!"

"Jazz," Wheeljack said quietly.

"I know 'Jack," Jazz stalled him. The sense of finality was something that they were both aware of. "If you've been holding anything back as a surprise then now is the time."

Wheeljack chuckled. "We used most of what I had on the missions, but I do have these." He pulled a handful of small devices out of his subspace. "They're more potent than they look, and they'll stick to anything you throw them at, then you've got a five count to run the other way. Do not walk."

"You always know how to put a smile on my face," Jazz grinned before he raised his voice. "Let's go mechs!"

A few astro-seconds later Jazz led the others in a short jump to the ground, and watched as the shuttle banked away. It seemed like such a graceful thing compared to the chaos around him.

The unit piled into the enemy flank. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe took on everyone that got in their way, with Jazz finishing off any mech unfortunate enough to get past the pair of warriors. Trailbreaker and Wheeljack kept to the rear, not out of cowardice, but simply because they were more suited to ranged combat.

"_If we can make it to that defence tower do you think you can get it working?"_ Jazz asked Wheeljack over the comm-link.

"_No problem,"_ Wheeljack answered. _"All we've got to do it steer the twins."_

Jazz flashed a smile over his shoulder. His confidence in the engineer told him that Wheeljack was right; getting the twins to where they wanted to go was definitely the bigger challenge.

The fight to the tower passed Jazz by in a blur, he didn't have time to think, or feel, but there was no room on the battlefield for emotion anyway, just reaction. Jazz had felt the same since his first fight at the Academe. Before the war, before Symphony. For vorns he had thought it strange that he didn't recall the other mech's name, but he remembered the emptiness he had felt, and that he had known even then that he wasn't really suited for a warrior's life.

Jazz had always thrived on his emotions, to shut them out went against his basic programming, which was why he had become a singer. The choice between the thrill of feeling, and the void had been an easy one for Jazz to make. A few vorns later fate, and war, had taken him back to the path he had rejected.

Pulling on his coolant vents Jazz left the twins and Trailbreaker to guard the door, and raced up the stairs, with Wheeljack close behind him. The control room at the top was small, the cannons were designed to be used remotely most of the time, but that wasn't going to slow Wheeljack down.

"We're up and running!" Wheeljack announced a few moments later, as he shoved himself out from under the console.

"I knew you could do it," Jazz congratulated him. "Concentrate on the 'Cons near the walls. I'll leave 'Breaker here to cover your aft."

"Where are you going?"

Jazz's smile was almost feral. "I promised the twins a fight."

Wheeljack watched him go before returning his attention to the console. He felt as if his spark as trying to beat it's way through his chest-plate; Jazz was putting himself in serious danger in an attempt to save their home, but Wheeljack knew which he would rather have. Buildings could be rebuilt after all.

Jazz stepped out of the tower and shot another grin at the twins. Sideswipe's answering smile was confident enough to make most 'Cons think twice about taking him on, but it was Sunstreaker's twisted smirk that almost made Jazz feel sorry for their enemies.

Without a word the three mechs launched themselves into the Decepticon flank. There was no time for thought or emotion and for that Jazz was grateful; he could take pride in beating his foes, but he hoped he would never feel comfortable with watching them die. To his processor that one thing separated him from the thing he hated most.

* * *

><p>Something had changed. Wheeljack knew that with certainty, but he couldn't explain why. The battle seemed to be going better, with fewer Decepticons attacking the city walls and the Autobots he could see were looking a little more confident, but he was still uneasy. It didn't help that Jazz wasn't answering his comm, or that he had lost sight of his friends, but there was nothing he could do, except keep firing.<p>

The pounding of footsteps behind him made him jump. Surely Trailbreaker would have signalled him somehow if they were being overrun, but he couldn't think of another reason why someone else was in the tower, and fear ripped through him as he snatched up his rifle.

For a moment he was frozen to the spot, every cable in his body was as taunt as it's tolerance would allow, but then a familiar red chevron and a silver face appeared around the corner.

"Primus Bluestreak!" Wheeljack cursed the younger mech. "What are you playing it? I was ready to shoot you!"

"Sorry," Bluestreak apologised. "I was trying to access the hub, to be honest I'm not much good at hacking jammed signals, but I had to try. I don't like not knowing where Prowl is."

Wheeljack relaxed slightly. He had some idea of how close the grey mech and the tactician where. "The comms are down," Wheeljack knew that he should have realised that sooner, but in his defence he'd had a lot on his processor since his return to Nova Cronum.

"For a breem or so now," Bluestreak informed him. "The last thing I got was a rather garbled message from Blaster, which I think was a set of co-ordinates and some encouragement, but could have been the latest odds from Smokescreen for all I know. Anyway they pretty much matched this turret and I figured that this was the best place for me to be. Do you mind if I take over?"

"Fine with me, but I'll stick around. Maybe I can boost your fire-power," he said quickly before another part of Bluestreak's speech registered. "Odds?" he asked curiously.

"There's always a few bets on a fight," Bluestreak explained. "Smokescreen usually holds the stakes, but Blaster sometimes takes over. Prowl tried to stop them a few vorns back, but then he realised that it helped to keep moral up."

"Maybe I should get Jazz to do something similar," Wheeljack mumbled as he hunched down under the control panel. "I might even win a few credits off him. A word of warning; never bet against Jazz, the mech has the Unmaker's own luck."

Bluestreak giggled as he took his place at the weapon's controls, and Wheeljack realised that just by being present the younger mech had soothed his frazzled circuits, and eased his worry.

"Is working live a good idea?" Bluestreak asked as the engineer started tinkering.

"I'm just recalibrating," Wheeljack assured him. "All I did earlier was get it working, I didn't have time to worry about anything else."

"Okay," Bluestreak said, sounding considerably more confident. "In which case the canon is pulling about two points of a degree to the starboard, and I could use a little more elevation to improve the range."

Wheeljack was seriously impressed by the observations; the younger mech had only taken a handful of shots. With a fond chuckle he made himself more comfortable, and set to his task. "So what have you been up to?" he asked conversationally. For nearly half a vorn they had spoken over the comm as often as Wheeljack's missions would allow, but recently when Wheeljack had called Iacon he had been told that Bluestreak was unavailable.

Silence. As soon as he was able Wheeljack peered out from under the console. He had expected to find Bluestreak engrossed in his task, but although the gunner was obviously busy, he was also hunched down in his seat, looking very awkward, and very young.

"Did I ask the wrong question?" Wheeljack asked gently. "I didn't mean to pry."

Bluestreak shook himself, and gave him a nervous smile. "Can we talk about that some other time?" he asked timidly.

"Of course," Wheeljack assured him. "I'll try to get over to Iacon soon."

"I'd like that," Bluestreak told him with a genuine grin.

* * *

><p>For breems Jazz and the twins fought like they never had before. They became lost in a world of enemies and weapons, both of which outnumbered them by impossible odds. Jazz had known from the start that, baring a miracle, there wasn't much hope, but it was his nature to try. The faith that he found in his friends told him that there was always a chance.<p>

Soon the three mechs were fighting in a tight ring, and their enemies came at them in never ending waves. _A little help, Primus,_ Jazz pleaded silently. He knew that he was the weakest of the three of them. Sideswipe could out match anyone except his brother, and Sunstreaker seemed to be enjoying himself, but Jazz knew that when he went down he would be taking the twins with him, and he was struggling. Sunstreaker had already saved him twice.

A heavy blow struck his shoulder and he felt his armour crumple even as he fell to his knees. He tried to get back to his feet, but there wasn't enough room for him to move. "I'm sorry," he called up to the twins, although he doubted they could hear him.

There was a flash of light, and a thunderous rumble. Jazz recognised the sound of a high-powered ion canon as he tried to clear the after-image from his visor. Few mechs used a weapon that powerful. _Optimus,_ he realised. The Prime himself was somewhere nearby.

The crush was easing off, Jazz hauled himself to his feet ready to attack the nearest enemy, but the first pair of optics he saw were blue not red. "Prowl?" He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing._ Nearly half a vorn avoiding Iacon and he turns up here._

"Bluestreak saw your shuttle as we flew in," the tactician explained. "Once we were on the ground we just looked for turmoil. I knew I'd find you in the middle of it."

"Getting to know me pretty well, aren't ya?" Jazz said cheerfully. His spark raced even as he tried to make light of the situation. He had not expected to see Prowl again, or at least he had thought that there would be some signal, a warning that the time was coming when he would have to face the consequences of what he considered to be one of the best nights of his life.

"Apparently," Prowl's voice was dry, and as expressionless as his face. _No room for emotion in battle,_ Jazz thought. It seemed that Prowl's philosophies weren't so different to his own.

The whole exchange had only lasted a few astro-seconds, and on his last word Prowl had spun around and rejoined the fight. Jazz followed him without a thought.

They fought shoulder to shoulder when space allowed, and back to back when it didn't. They protected each other, and read each other's moves perfectly. Jazz had seen the twins fight in the same way, marvelled at their ability, but there and then he found it easy. Later he would see the significance of it, but at the time he didn't consider it to be anything other that how it was supposed to be.

Eventually they found themselves at the city walls and safe. The Decepticons were retreating, the medics were moving in, and Hound greeted them at the gates, although his optics never really left the battlefield.

"'Breaker's fine," Jazz assured the green mech.

"I know," Hound nodded, "but I'll feel better when he's back."

Prowl looked a little confused as they moved on. "Do you encourage your unit to have relationships with each other?" he asked once they were out of Hound's audio range.

"So long as those relationships are healthy I don't see why they should be discouraged," Jazz answered. "Hound and 'Breaker got together just as we started out. Hound needed protecting, 'Breaker needed someone to protect, and I wasn't about to tell them that they couldn't be together. They bonded a vorn or so later."

"They didn't waste any time," Prowl's remark was pointed. Jazz felt it like a laser-knife, but decided that finishing the story was the best thing he could do.

"'Breaker almost died at the end of one of our missions, Hound's reaction was understandable, they knew that they would bond eventually and decided not to waste whatever time they might have."

"So you allow your unit to make the most of their lives, but you deny yourself the same privilege."

"I'm not like them," Jazz pointed out. "My relationships are usually brief, simple and fun."

"So you take what you want and you leave, is that it?" Prowl sounded as if the option had never occurred to him.

"Usually," Jazz admitted. "Not always, but usually." He knew what Prowl was really asking him, but he didn't know the answer. He had thought about what would happen when he saw Prowl again many times, but he had never figured out what he would say, or even how to begin apologising.

Having Prowl stood in front of him was intoxicating. He was so graceful, so intelligent and intriguing, irresistible. Jazz longed to just reach out and touch, and before he knew what he was doing his hand was holding Prowl's.

"Jazz," Prowl whispered. He sounded apprehensive, but there was desire in his optics.

"We both know that this isn't the time," Jazz told him. "Give me a few cycles, four at most, to help out here, then I'll come to Iacon and we'll do this properly."

Even as he spoke Optimus began calling for his units to return to their shuttles.

Prowl knew that he would never be allowed to stay behind; he'd barely left the Prime's side since he had become their leader, and Optimus relied on him heavily. "I'll see you soon," he said. He could see the logic in what Jazz was saying, but he prayed that Jazz wasn't just making excuses so that he could run again. He leant in and stole the briefest of kisses before turning and jogging off to join his commander.

Jazz could only watch him go, and try to suppress the grin that kept fighting it's way onto his lip-components.

"So," Wheeljack came up and clapped his hand on Jazz's shoulder. "How was your cycle?"

"Interesting," Jazz said cheerfully. "Yours?"

"Considering that I've spent most of it scared out of my processor and fighting for my life; I'd say it ended well."

Jazz glanced at his friend then followed his optics, and saw that they were tracking a familiar two-tone grey mech as he headed for his shuttle. "I've told Prowl that I'll join him in Iacon soon. You're more than welcome to come with," he offered.

"I may just do that," Wheeljack nodded as they watched the shuttles take off. "So what do we do now?"

For a moment Jazz looked distracted then his relaxed demeanour disappeared completely. "Find 'Breaker," he ordered.

"What?" Wheeljack asked. He didn't usually question orders, but the change was so sudden that he couldn't understand what was happening. Even as he spoke he became aware of the scream of Seeker engines. Jazz started running as they came into sight, and Wheeljack was right behind him before two more trines joined the first.

None of the fliers were paying any attention to Nova Cronum, their optics were on a bigger prize; Optimus Prime's shuttle.

Both mechs yelled for Trailbreaker until he came running with Hound in tow, the twins joined them just as they reached Steelhaven.

"Sideswipe, guns. Sunstreaker, canon. 'Breaker, get us in the air," Jazz rattled off quickly.

The engines whined then rumbled, and a moment later there was the all to familiar weighty feeling of a rushed take off.

"I can't chase down Seekers Jazz," Trailbreaker reminded his commander.

"You won't have to," Jazz assured him. "We just need to be in targeting range, and they aren't going far."

"Copy that," Trailbreaker responded enthusiastically, and the engines roared.

Jazz stood behind Trailbreaker's seat and willed the shuttle to go faster. He'd always believed that Steelhaven was enough, even when their enemies had seemed far too close Jazz had never lost faith in her, or Trailbreaker's skill as a pilot, but in that moment he prayed for speed.

By the time they were close enough for the twins to start firing the other shuttle was smoking badly from it's engines, and Optimus Prime himself was leaning out of one of the hull breaches to shoot at the Seekers.

"Most of the Prime's shuttle's weapons are down and it's engines are failing," Hound reported.

Trailbreaker growled in frustration as he glanced at the damage report. "She's going down no matter what we do."

"Don't let the Seekers follow them," Jazz bellowed. Wheeljack stepped up beside him. They were the only two members of the crew that didn't really have anything to do, and Jazz knew that the engineer felt just as helpless as he did.

"Their pilot's trying for an emergency landing," Trailbreaker informed them. "It's not going to be pretty."

_Primus have mercy,_ Jazz prayed.

With the other shuttle below their line of fire the twins were really able to let loose with their weapons, and by some miracle managed to force the Seekers to break off their pursuit, but it was only an instant later that fire erupted from the planet's surface, and Jazz felt a low boom rumble Steelhaven's deck as the Prime's shuttle hit the ground.

* * *

><p>A.n: Well, I had a wonderful holiday (thanks Kkcliffy), and I have come back refreshed, and determined. Hopefully these feelings will last. It's so easy to get dragged down by real life, and neglect imagination, which is a shame in my opinion. Anyway, take care all, FB.<p> 


	35. Chapter 35

**Part 35**

Jazz blasted his way through the side of the shuttle, and tried not to see the chaos that waited for him. Many voices called for help, others only moaned, and Jazz could see that a few of them would never make a noise again.

"Everybody get out!" he shouted above the din. "If you can walk get to the other shuttle, if you want to help take someone with you."

"Jazz!" The sound of his own name being called so desperately all but shattered his deliberate coolness.

"'Breaker, here!" he bellowed as he followed the sound and spotted a red chevron sticking out from under a collapsed bulkhead.

As Trailbreaker heaved at the panel Jazz gripped the mech by the shoulders, pulled and was rewarded with an armful of terrified, panicking Bluestreak.

"I've got you," Jazz said just loud enough to be heard. "You're alright." He knew that he had to hurry, that there was little time for sentimentality, but he couldn't force himself to move until Bluestreak's intakes began to return to normal. Trailbreaker's only reminder that they needed to move on was met with a quick but stern look, and Jazz remained where he was, rubbing soothing circles just below the younger mech's sensory-panels until Bluestreak was calm.

Astro-seconds that felt like vorns later the gunner looked up at him, and seemed ready to speak, but didn't seem to know what to say.

Jazz stalled him. "We need to find Prowl," he said softly. His tone was calculated to let Bluestreak know that there were things that needed to be said between them, but that it wasn't the time.

Bluestreak seemed to understand him completely, and scrambled to his feet. "He was in the cockpit," he said quickly.

Jazz felt the energon in his systems go cold with worry. Despite all the work that went into making the shuttles as safe as possible the helm was always the worst place to be in a crash, and his own personal experience compounded his fear. "'Breaker." he barked.

The large black mech didn't hesitate before throwing his considerable weight against the bulkhead. The already damaged wall didn't stand a chance.

Prowl, and a mech that Jazz didn't recognise, lay amongst the debris of the helm. Both mechs were offline, and the sparking fires from the terminals left no time for caution, or concern.

Once again all Jazz had to do was bark his friend's name and Trailbreaker hauled the shuttle's pilot out of the rubble, leaving Jazz and Bluestreak to help Prowl. As they made their ungainly way back out Jazz ran one last scan; there were no more life-signs, and he couldn't bring himself to look at the more detailed information, which would have told him how many Autobots had perished in the crash.

Exhausted, and with his emotional controls in tatters, Jazz pushed through Steelhaven's crowded hold, and guided Bluestreak into the rear cabin, where he could make Prowl comfortable on the berth, and escape the cacophony of mechs either calling for help, or trying to answer.

"We need Wheeljack in here," Jazz muttered as he tried to assess Prowl's injuries, "but I'm almost afraid to ask him. He's got quite enough to deal with out there."

"We'll be in Iacon soon enough," Bluestreak assured him.

Telling himself that the younger mech was right, and that Prowl was stable, Jazz sank down on the edge of the berth.

"When did you last rest?" Bluestreak's tone was light, conversational even, but his optics were sharp.

"Feels like vorns," Jazz admitted, "I feel as if I've been running since Perihex fell, maybe longer. I sometimes wonder if I've stopped running since Uraya." He cursed himself inwardly as soon as the name passed his lip-components. _What is it about this youngling that brings up everything I shouldn't say?_

"Uraya?" If Bluestreak's optics had been sharp before they could pierce armour now.

"I shouldn't have mentioned that," Jazz forestalled him. "Old wounds and distant memories, we have new and more pressing things to concern us now."

"But..."

"Let it lie Bluestreak," Jazz ordered, and it shamed him that he had to make it an order. "One cycle maybe, but not now."

"You should rest for a while," Bluestreak said softly, heeding Jazz's pleading tone. "It's not far to Iacon, but it might help you."

Jazz didn't have the energy to argue. He stretched out wearily beside Prowl, but paused when he realised that Bluestreak was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, there was no where else to sit and Jazz couldn't blame him for not wanting to go out into the hold. He raised his arm in a silent invitation, Bluestreak understood him immediately and settled down beside him.

Within a few moments they were a both recharging peacefully.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack wiped as much of the other mech's energon off his hands as he could. He hadn't stopped since before his unit had left Kalis, since then he had fought in the battle of Nova Cronum, rescued stricken mechs after the shuttle crash, and spent the rest of his time trying to be a medic. It was a task he had never relished, although it was forced upon him often enough.<p>

_At least now they'll all live to see Iacon,_ he thought. He hardly dared hope that once they were there they would cease to be his problem. Ratchet was a fully qualified and more than competent medic, but with so few trained to help him he had to find hands where he could.

A breem earlier Trailbreaker had told the engineer that they would be landing as soon as he received clearance, and that left Wheeljack with just one task, and he could only thank his stars that it did not involve anyone else's inner workings.

He stepped through the door to the rear cabin and stopped dead in amazement. Jazz, Prowl, and Bluestreak lay huddled together on the large berth. Each of them looked so serene and innocent that if Wheeljack ignored their size and armour he could see the sparklings they had all once been. He had never seen any of them look so untroubled. _Looks like Jazz finally found the sanctuary he's been searching for._

He was so stunned by the sight that it took him a moment to realise that Bluestreak's optics were watching him closely, although the younger mech hadn't moved.

"You're almost home," Wheeljack whispered.

"It feels that way," Bluestreak murmured.

For an instant Wheeljack felt a stab of jealousy; Bluestreak seemed so comfortable curled up beside Jazz, but there was no pretence behind Bluestreak's words, just an simple truth, and Wheeljack shoved the negative feelings aside because of that honesty. All those thoughts disappeared when the young mech nudged Jazz to bring him back online. He didn't have time to call out the warning that Jazz could be violent when disturbed, but he was ready to help if Jazz reacted badly. Fortunately the black and white's visor began to glow, and Jazz grinned at them.

"How long?" he asked Wheeljack.

"A breem or so. Do you need help with Prowl?"

"Bluestreak and I can manage," Jazz assured him. "The others?"

"Everyone who made it out of the shuttle will make it to Iacon. Some are in better shape than others though."

"I should have been out there," Jazz said guiltily.

"No," Wheeljack disagreed, "your place was here, and you've done enough for a few cycles."

"Prowl never stops either," Bluestreak said with a worried glance to the still offline mech. "He takes all the troubles of this world and keeps them as if they were his."

Wheeljack chuckled, and looked at Jazz. "And you thought that the two of you had nothing in common," he said dryly.

"An unhealthy work ethic is hardly the base for a solid relationship," Jazz retorted.

Bluestreak's optics widened. "You have a relationship?" he asked before his processor caught up with his vocaliser. "I thought you just... well, I don't know what you did with him, and I'm not sure I want to, but..."

"Bluestreak," Jazz interrupted, "Prowl and I don't know what we have yet. We talked earlier, while he was saving my life, but our only conclusion was that we needed to talk more. I told him I'd catch up with him next time I was in Iacon, but that's going to happen sooner than I thought it would, so I have no idea what I'm going to say."

"Oh," Bluestreak said quietly. "Well, I guess we'd better him to the med-bay, then you can think."

Wheeljack led the way out of the cabin, but he didn't stay with the other three; there were still plenty of other casualties to offload.

* * *

><p>The med-bay seemed to had descended into a whole new level of the Inferno by the time Wheeljack arrived. The usual bustle had become barely organised chaos, and for a moment he stood frozen trying to work out where to start, before Ratchet waved a laser-scalpel at a diagnostic unit, and he realised that he would be working on circuits and parts which had been removed so that they could be repaired.<p>

After a while Wheeljack realised that he was finding the work more tedious than draining. He never would have admitted that he was bored, but he soon found himself wishing for a distraction.

It felt like cycles later when Bluestreak finally appeared at his side. The younger mech looked almost exhausted as Wheeljack felt, but still gave him a warm smile as he settled himself on the edge of a vacant berth. "What a cycle," he muttered.

Wheeljack almost laughed. Bluestreak's cycle, so far as he knew, had started in his quarters after a full recharge. Wheeljack had spent the night at Steelhaven's helm looking forward to a few cycles leave, which he felt were hard earned. His unit had spent close to half a vorn holding back the Decepticon advance.

"How's Prowl?" Wheeljack asked. Prowl was on the other side of the med-bay, and he hadn't seen anyone else to ask. He didn't really know Prowl that well, but he understood that the mech meant a lot to Bluestreak.

"Stable, but Ratchet's keeping him off-line. He damaged his sensory-panels, and that can be incredibly uncomfortable," Bluestreak explained, unconsciously flexing his own appendages in a sign of sympathy. "There's nothing I can to for him, and Jazz needs time to think, so I thought I'd come, keep you company, if that's okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Wheeljack asked.

"Well, you have given me the brush off before," Bluestreak retorted, with a smile to take the sting out of his words.

"That was a long time ago," Wheeljack reminded him. "And I was seeing someone at the time, but that's been over for a while now. I was headed back to Nova Cronum to take a few cycles leave when the attack started. I'd intended to get in a good recharge, and then catch a transport here to see you."

"Really?" Bluestreak asked. He sounded surprised, but looked happy. "The last time we spoke you gave the impression that you'd be gone for longer."

"Jazz finally realised that we were all running on empty, even him. There comes a point where you have to remind yourself what you're fighting for or the fight becomes pointless, and that's when mistakes happen."

Bluestreak nodded, but Wheeljack doubted that he would ever really understand. By comparison Bluestreak's life was safe, comfortable, and predictable. He would never know what it was like to spend most of his time in enemy territory with no back up and no way out in sight, or at least so Wheeljack hoped.

"Do you know how long you'll be here?"

Wheeljack shook his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Jazz has us back out there again in a cycle. Jazz will call it duty, but Nova Cronum was more than just a military asset to us." He snapped shut the casing on his latest piece of work, and picked up another.

Before he could even assess the damage Bluestreak had stepped in close and covered it with his hand. "Take a break," the young mech said softly, "just a breem or two. Put that down, and come with me."

"I have a lot of work to do Bluestreak," Wheeljack argued.

"And it'll still be here when you get back," Bluestreak eased the servo away from him, and led him quickly through a door at the back of the med-bay. There wasn't much in the small room, which seemed to be half office, half storage area, but the energon dispenser was a welcome sight. Bluestreak quickly poured him a ration, and watched him drink it down. "Better?" he asked, when Wheeljack was done.

"A little," Wheeljack admitted, "I'm sorry. It's been a Pit of a cycle, and I need to feel useful."

"I know," Bluestreak assured him, "but what you said earlier about knowing what you're fighting for, that's important too. I'll be back on duty soon enough, and for all I know you could be gone again before I'm done. So I need one thing, one answer."

"Only one?" Wheeljack was naturally curious, he could think of a hundred things he needed to know, why the kind, young mech was even remotely interested in him for a start, but apparently Bluestreak was driven more by his spark than his processor.

For a moment Bluestreak looked nervous, he moved a little closer, hesitated, then leant forward further and pressed his lips against Wheeljack's in a gentle, but glorious kiss. "I should have done that ages ago," he whispered as he pulled away. His optics were bright with warmth and happiness. "I'm not used to having to wait half a vorn just to find out if a mech's interested in me."

"Maybe I should make something clear," the engineer's tone was warm but stern, "I'm not looking for anything short-term, I'd really like us to last a while."

Bluestreak nodded, smiled, and in that moment Wheeljack thought him beautiful. He wished that he could stay, that the world outside their little room would wait for them for a while, but he knew that it wouldn't. It was only chance that no one had opened the door already.

"There's a service vent behind the work-bench," Bluestreak said casually, "we could sneak out through it and no one would ever know."

Wheeljack was tempted, but he shook his head. "I need to get back to work. How do you know about the vent?" Usually only maintenance 'bots knew about such things.

"When I was a sparkling Ratchet thought he might make a medic out of me, he used to make me study in here. That tunnel was my freedom, from there I could get anywhere in the base, usually to the targeting range. I wanted to be a warrior, becoming a sniper was Prowl's compromise. I could help, but I wouldn't be in immediate danger."

"It wasn't a bad idea," Wheeljack told him. "I don't think I like the thought of you being on the front line either."

"Says the mech who spends most of his time on the other side of that line," Bluestreak muttered.

"I was a mature mech when this war started," Wheeljack reminded him. "No one ever thought to protect me."

"Maybe someone should," Bluestreak said with a sympathetic look, "but I guess that'll have to wait for another cycle." He leant in and gave Wheeljack another kiss, a longer one than before. The sort of kiss that promised more, and left Wheeljack's coolant system working at twice it's usual rate.

Before Wheeljack's processor could catch up with what had happened Bluestreak had shot out of the room, leaving Wheeljack leaning on the desk and trying to keep a rather smug grin from his lip-components. Not for the first time Wheeljack found himself thankful for his face-mask. He slipped out of the room hoping that his absence had gone unnoticed, but looking back he should have known better.

Ratchet was stood right outside, hands on hips and optics demanding answers.

"Don't you ever take a breem off?" Wheeljack asked abruptly. He didn't mean to snap, but he wasn't in the mood for one of Ratchet's infamous aft-crunchings either.

"I'm just worried about your intentions toward Bluestreak."

"My intentions," Wheeljack said indignantly. "He's the one coming on to me. I like him, a lot as it happens, but I didn't start anything."

"He's too young for you," Ratchet hissed.

"He's a mature mech, with more relationship experience than me," Wheeljack shot back. "We've talked about our pasts. While I've been away we talked most cycles, he knows that in my life I have been in exactly two relationships, and I know that he's been in more than a few, none of that matters to us, so maybe you could tell me why it should matter to you."

"I helped raise him. He's the closest thing I'm ever likely to get to my own creation, can you begin to comprehend that?"

"I know what it's like to be on the other end of that," Wheeljack said quietly. "My own creators were very protective of me, took a dislike to a mech I got involved with, made our relationship difficult, even packed me off to Perihex so that I couldn't see him. I was furious, and they turned out to be right, which didn't help."

"You're telling me that I should let Bluestreak make his own mistakes," Ratchet inferred.

Wheeljack nodded. "Hopefully I won't prove to be one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me I have work to do." He started to walk away, but Ratchet called him back.

"I think you've done enough for a cycle or two," the medic told him.

* * *

><p><span>A.n:<span> Sorry about the wait again. I had hoped to post this chapter much earlier, but two colds, a few family issues, and a small fire at work (thankfully no one was hurt, but the clean up afterwards was horrendous) really made a dent on my free time.

A quick, but special thank you, to Imagine Dragons for lovely, and thoughtful, reviews. As you intended I've moderated the one with spoilers. It is wonderful to know that someone is really paying attention though, and I think I can say that you weren't imagining things without giving the game away.

Much love, FB.


	36. Chapter 36

**Part 36**

The med-bay had been so loud at first that Jazz had almost felt at home; the medics were shouting at each other, parts were being tossed around or replaced with a steady clink, clink, clonk, and anyone well enough to talk was chatting away with their neighbours.

It seemed to Jazz that no one wanted to be still, or silent. Deactivation was too close by for them to relax, but the Unmaker had a rival, the living had a protector, and his name was Ratchet. The C.M.O was easily the busiest and noisiest 'bot in the room, and Jazz had never been so glad to see him.

Prowl was stretched out, still offline, on the berth, and as one of the highest ranked casualties, was under Ratchet's personal care. Although the medic regularly stormed off to correct, and shout at, one of his underlings.

Eventually though the noise subsided. Only those who were still offline were left in their berths, with a handful of quiet medics remaining to tend them.

Feeling that he could finally move from his vantage point by the wall without being crushed, or reconfigured by the irate C.M.O, Jazz silently took a seat on the edge of Prowl's berth. He held his hand for a while, and willed the tactician to be alright, even though he knew the Prowl wasn't in any danger, but despite his best intentions he soon grew bored, and allowed his optics to roam the med-bay in the hope of a distraction.

Wheeljack, he was disappointed to discover, was no where in sight, and when Jazz thought back he realised that he hadn't seen his friend in some time, but he was more surprised to see that Bluestreak was also gone. He had felt sure that the young mech wouldn't leave Prowl's side until he was fully functional again. In fact he was so convinced that the next time Ratchet passed him by he asked the medic where the gunner was.

"Unlike you," the medic said pointedly, "Bluestreak trusts me, and believes without question that I'll give Prowl the very best of care."

Before Jazz could speak again Ratchet bustled off, but Jazz had caught the undertone of the medic's words. If there ever came a time when Ratchet wasn't able to save Prowl's spark Bluestreak wouldn't be there watching.

Eventually though Prowl was broght back online, once Ratchet was satisfied that Prowl's self-repair systems were well into their programs he released him, and Jazz realised that the time had come. He still had no idea what would happen next though.

* * *

><p>Feeling nervous and beyond exhausted Jazz followed Prowl into his quarters. Such a thing was rare. Jazz knew that most Autobots had so little private time, or space, that they guarded their own rooms to the point of obsession. An invitation to someone else's quarters usually indicated a close friendship, or a relationship, but Jazz knew that he didn't really have either of those things with Prowl.<p>

Curiously Jazz peered around the main room. It wasn't what he had been expecting. In his idle moments he had imagined Prowl's quarters to be sparse, regimented, and probably incredibly tidy, but although it seemed as if everything had a place, there were decorations, the room was softly lit, comfortable, and had a strangely familiar feel.

He quickly realised that the source of the positive feeling came from a collection of small crystals, several placed individually, or in pairs, around the room, and four in a bowl that took pride of place on a delicate table in the centre.

"Where are you from Prowl?" he asked.

"Praxus," Prowl answered sorrowfully. It was clear that he still mourned the fall of his city.

"It was always one of my favourite places," Jazz said sympathetically. "And I saw the devastation that the Decepticons caused. I intend to hunt down those responsible, some of them have already paid for their part."

"More than you think," Prowl said with a savage look that Jazz had never expected to see on his face-plates. "I believe that emotion has no place in war, it leads to mistakes and disasters, but I have allowed myself a few small acts of revenge. Was it wrong of me to find them satisfying?"

Jazz was stunned by the question, but he quickly shook his head.

"They desecrated your city, and took away everyone you knew from there. I've lost friends myself and how much it hurts, revenge is a natural reaction to that pain."

Prowl gave him a grateful look. "The others say that they understand, but most of them were sparked here in Iacon, and the Decepticons don't do much more than make a show of attacking here once in a while."

"And I'm sure you soon make them regret doing so," Jazz said lightly, he was hoping to raise Prowl's spirits.

"We're lucky enough to be well defended here, and not many 'Cons are brave enough to take on a Prime."

Jazz thought of the huge mech he had seen defeating the guardian of Crystal City, and wondered how Optimus would fare against him, but fortunately the colossus hadn't been seen since. He decided not to mention it, Prowl had surely heard of him anyway, and he wanted to get the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about; them. An idea occurred to him and he smiled to himself. "As you're from Praxus you should have these," he said as he reached into his subspace and pulled out the two crystals he had acquired on his previous visits to Prowl's former home.

Prowl's optics lit up at the sight of them. "My stars," he whispered, "I didn't think I'd see any more."

"I've had them for a while," Jazz admitted, as Prowl took the two jewels from him and examined them closely.

"You've used this one," Prowl said holding up the one that Jazz had picked up when he and Wheeljack had taken a few cycles leave vorns ago. Jazz nodded, and wondered if Prowl could tell what he had used it for. "It feels like you, so it belongs to you," he passed it back, and as he pressed it into Jazz's hand his optics widened, and his cooling fans kicked in. "Wow," he murmured, "I didn't know that could happen."

"Then it seems I might have something to teach you," Jazz said cheerfully.

Prowl smiled easily. "I'll look forward to that, but would you excuse me for a moment, I must know something first."

"Of course," Jazz nodded. He was expecting another question, but instead Prowl pulled away from him reluctantly, and started moving around the room. "What are you doing?"

"The crystals are sensitive to many influences," Prowl explained, "they change over time, it's not ridiculous to wonder if they evolve. Their individualities create harmonies, they fascinated me, I need to know if this one will match any of the others I have."

"You certainly seem to have quite a collection," Jazz observed.

"With Crystal City and Praxus destroyed what you see here is probably one of the best in the world," Prowl lamented. It was a sad fact that the few shards that Prowl had gathered were a large proportion of what survived two of the greatest wonders of their world. "It's my hope that when the war is over I will return to Praxus and help to rebuild what was lost, maybe even become a caretaker for the new gardens."

"You don't make any sense," Jazz mumbled as Prowl moved from the main room to the recharge chamber. He wasn't expecting Prowl to hear him, but apparently he had underestimated Prowl's audio range.

"Why not?"

"You're a military tactician, an expert in war, but you say you dream of a contemplative life caring for crystals."

"As a youngling I craved adventure, I had no problem with Praxus, but I wanted to see the world so I came to Iacon, managed to get a job as a servant, which I was good enough at to be promoted, after a few vorns I became a body-guard to the last Prime, and because of him I saw places that I had only ever dreamed of before."

"But then the war began," Jazz predicted.

"And Sentinel discovered that I had a talent for strategies. I could see weak points in battle-lines that no one else could, and he put me forward for up-grades to make me even better. After that I only ever failed him once."

Jazz didn't need to see Prowl's face to know that how guilty he felt about the former Prime's death. He was about to follow him into the other room and offer to comfort him, but at that moment Prowl re-emerged and walked slowly towards the bowl of four crystals in the centre of the room. Suddenly his optics lit up, and a smile crept onto his face before he placed the crystal among the others.

"Thank you," he said genuinely, "I didn't think I would ever find another to match these."

Jazz watched the bowl wondering if there was a change, did he feel different? Did the crystals glow a little brighter? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to believe.

"What about you?" Prowl asked. "I mean you know a little more about me now, it seems only fair that you tell me about you. Where are you from?"

"Can't you tell?" Jazz teased him. Few of his friends had ever asked him that question, and his answer was never the one they expected.

"No," Prowl admitted. "Your accent isn't clear. You called Nova Cronum home, but you don't have the military attitude that I'd expect from someone sparked there."

"My creators spent a lot of time off-world, trading with mining posts mainly. They were heading back to Cybertron for my separation, but I came early; just as we broke atmo. My creators used to tell me that I was sparked amongst the stars, but I am a citizen of this world. Maybe that's why I can always manage to make a home in whichever city I fetch up in."

"If we all thought the same way there would be no war," Prowl whispered. "How many cities have fallen because we have refused to accept that we are, in essence, the same?" His optics seemed haunted by the question.

"It doesn't work that way," Jazz told him. "I see this world as mine to protect, but it's too much. I've tried so hard, and failed so often. I've done terrible things in the line of an impossible duty. I may well be the worst mech you've ever met." His voice shook as he finished. A thought that scared him more than anything else he had faced was forming itself into words. "I should go."

"Jazz wait!" Prowl said instantly. "It's the crystals."

"I don't understand," Jazz admitted. His emotions were almost beyond his control, and he felt as if he might shatter under the weight of them.

Prowl pointed to the bowl of gems. They were definitely glowing, and Jazz wondered if he could hear them; a frequency right on the edge of his hearing seemed to be picking up something, but he couldn't tell what it was. His worst fears crept through his processor and seemed more real by the moment. At any time they might burst out in front of Prowl. He started to back away.

"By Primus, but they're powerful," Prowl sounded awestruck, and just as scared as Jazz was.

"The crystals are supposed to make us feel better," Jazz argued.

"And we will, but first we have to accept the things that make us feel worse. Our fears, our sins, our sorrows..." Prowl's hands were shaking.

"Make it stop!" Jazz pleaded.

"I can't," Prowl whispered helplessly. "I know it hurts, but we have to do this."

Jazz's fear evolved into words, and he couldn't hold them in. "I have nothing to offer you," he whispered. The confession broke his control, burned him, froze him, and threatened to destroy him.

Prowl's intakes stalled. He looked as if he might collapse at any moment. "I'm terrified of you." The admission seemed to equal Jazz's. The tactician's best kept secret had also been given voice, and made real.

Seeing Prowl so scared gave Jazz courage. If he ran he could save himself, but it would not help Prowl. He dashed forward; intending to smash the bowl and it's contents.

"No!" he heard Prowl cry. He felt a tug on his arm. Prowl was trying to stop him, and at the same moment Jazz's outstretched fingers brushed the nearest crystal.

They landed on the floor. Huddled together, but no longer afraid. They felt washed clean, relieved, their flaws and transgressions forgiven in one moment of indescribable release.

Jazz held Prowl in his arms, and felt impossibly content. He had wondered more than once if that feeling had been a dream rather than a memory. _The last time I felt like this I ran,_ he thought, _but it didn't help._

Neither of them spoke. Prowl reached up with a hand that still shook slightly, and pulled Jazz down into a heated kiss. Jazz returned it, and felt the thrill of such a wonderful thing race through his circuits.

"What just happened?" Jazz asked when they broke apart.

"You and I have shared a tumultuous relationship so far, a past which needed to be reckoned with before we could move on. The crystals they... well perhaps sensed is the wrong word, that would imply intelligence, but I don't know how else to phrase it. They sensed our problems and took it upon themselves to make things right. Maybe we couldn't have done it by ourselves, maybe they were just working as they should, but regardless, here we sit at ease with each other, and our flaws."

"And you're not scared of me anymore?"

Prowl looked a little embarrassed. It was understandable, Jazz was sure that Prowl never would have spoken those words under any other circumstances.

"You represent everything I am not. You are impulsive, reckless, and, if you will excuse my honesty, a bit of a rogue. I cannot understand you, or the way you live your life. I cannot predict you, and when I am around you I find that you affect my reactions. My life is logical, you are not, and my weakness left me terrified of you."

"Weakness?" Jazz asked, "I've seen no sign of weakness in you."

"It's not something i broadcast, but when I became tactical adviser to the Prime I was given the best up-grades possible; a logic centre that surpasses all others, and a battle-computer. My processor relies heavily on them, and they suppress my emotions so that I can remain functional even in the worst of times. I need to think, to reason, or I am useless. How can I satisfy an emotionally developed mech such as you within such limits?"

"We'll work it out," Jazz assured him. "It'll take some work on both sides, but I've always enjoyed challenges."

"As have I," Prowl admitted.

"Then we have something in common," Jazz grinned. It felt like a victory, a small one, but a victory. "What else do you like?" he added in a suggestive tone. Their ordeal was over, the crystals settled, he had Prowl in his arms, and was reluctant to give up such an opportunity.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N:<strong> I'll admit that I may have gotten a little carried away with the crystals in this chapter, and if you think that way I apologise, but let's face it there are probably hundreds of stories about how Jazz and Prowl got together on this site, this is an idea that I hadn't seen before, I tried it out, and liked the result. I hope you did too. Take care. FB.

P.s. Edited for a couple of mistakes pointed out in a review. The post came from a guest, so I can't thank you personally, but it's great to know that you were paying attention.


	37. Chapter 37

**Part 37**

A heavy silence descended over the whole crew as Steelhaven came into land. Jazz had known that going back to Nova Cronum after their brief stay in Iacon wouldn't be easy. Iacon had felt safe, friendly, Nova Cronum no longer did.

He understood, as he looked out across the wasted city, why the Autobots referred to such places as 'fallen': it wasn't just buildings that were destroyed, but what they represented. Another sanctuary was gone, and Jazz was sure that he wasn't the only one who had realised that there weren't many places of safety left.

No one spoke as they disembarked, they all knew what they had to do, and talking would only make it worse.

Wheeljack and Sunstreaker split away from the rest of them soon after, and Jazz hoped that the engineer would find more of his lab than the expected ruins. Wheeljack had put so much work into his inventions and ideas, and to find all of them destroyed would be spark-wrenching.

Jazz sent up a quick prayer to Primus and moved on. He and Trailbreaker had other concerns, Sideswipe was only worried about protecting them, and Hound was staying aboard Steelhaven.

Trailbreaker's face was unusually blank as he moved as quietly as he could through the city, but Jazz knew what he was thinking. Nova Cronum wasn't just somewhere to the black mech and his bond-mate, it was _the_ place where they had become lovers, and because of that the city was possibly the only place that Trailbreaker had considered a home in vorns.

Nothing moved as they crossed courtyards, and stalked down corridors. Jazz had been hoping that they would find a few survivors hiding in the wreckage, but it seemed that everyone who could had fled. Nova Cronum had become a husk, an echo of life. Jazz had seen such horrors before, and each time he found himself praying that he never would again.

Eventually they reached the hub control room, where Jazz and Trailbreaker hot-wired the master computer. The power supply wouldn't last long, but it didn't need to. Their mission was to salvage everything they could, and destroy the rest. The control room would soon become just another crater on their battle-scared planet.

When Jazz had outlined their mission Trailbreaker had remarked that Nova Cronum had never been beautiful, but that hadn't made any of them feel better.

Between them Jazz and Trailbreaker installed the data-retrievers, while Sideswipe stood guard. After that Trailbreaker took over monitoring the devices, while Jazz set to work on the explosives. Unusually for his unit there had been no volunteers to blow something up.

Jazz soon lost patience with everything. He was horribly aware that the longer they stayed in the city the more danger they were in. His fears became reality all too soon; the high-pitched whine of Seeker engines was unmistakable, and far too close.

"Hound!" he yelled, over the comms, "get airborne, give cover fire if you can, but do _not_ engage."

"Copy that," Hound responded, although he sounded reluctant. "Steelhaven is going up."

"And just how are we supposed to get aboard if she's in the air?" Sideswipe demanded to know. "Only 'Jack and I can fly, and there's no way either of us could keep up with Steelhaven."

"We'll just have to find our own way," Jazz said grimly.

The look that Sideswipe gave him should have seared his paint-job. Jazz had to admit that he wasn't looking forward to driving back to Iacon, but Steelhaven would never be able to hold her own against a trine of Seekers.

"How long 'Breaker?" he called. It was an effort to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Five breems, maybe four if we're lucky," Trailbreaker reported instantly.

They had done everything as quickly as they could, but as Jazz had feared from the start, they just weren't fast enough.

"Let's see if we can cut that down to one, shall we?" There was a way, but he knew that Trailbreaker would call it idiotic. In one smooth motion he connected himself to the mainframe, and mentally started the download. Information flooded his processor faster than he could ever hope to keep up with. Even for Jazz, who considered himself a close to an expert of such things, the sheer speed was painful.

He was only vaguely aware of Trailbreaker kicking up a storm, or maybe that was just what he was expecting, reality seemed so far away he wasn't truly sure of anything.

Then agony lanced through his circuits, and by the time he knew what was happening he was bent over Trailbreaker's shoulder, and the black mech was running as if the Pit had opened up behind him.

"Let me down," he ordered.

"No time," Trailbreaker shouted over a roaring sound, which Jazz was afraid that he knew all too well. "The city is burning."

"Why do half the places we go end up on fire?" Jazz asked. He wasn't really functioning properly, or he never would have asked, but it seemed like the right time to ask a stupid question.

"I've been asking myself the same thing for vorns," Trailbreaker grumbled.

"Sides," Jazz called out. He couldn't see the red mech, truth be told he couldn't see much of anything except for Trailbreaker's rear-quarters, but the second set of foot falls he could hear could only belong to the warrior. "Where's Sunny?" He had no doubt that the golden warrior could look after himself, and that it was Wheeljack he should be more worried about, but Sideswipe would never forgive him for asking about the engineer before Sunstreaker.

"Half a mega-mile ahead, and somewhere above us. We're in an old turbo-shuttle tube, I think he's on the surface, neither of us is sure which is better."

"Is he under attack?"

"No, but I don't think he can see Hound either."

"Hound was forced south," Trailbreaker put in, "Steelhaven isn't a match for Seekers, even with a full crew. He's hoping to circle round to us, but that'll take a while."

"Get Sunny down here before he's spotted Sides," Jazz instructed. "And 'Breaker, for the love of Primus, put me down!" The deep rumble of explosions and hiss of fire had subsided, and Jazz knew that they were as safe as they were likely to get.

Trailbreaker laughed, the deep hum reverberated through Jazz's chassis before the black mech set him down unceremoniously, and shoved him to get him moving.

For the first time Jazz could actually see where he was, rather than just a close up view of Trailbreaker's aft, and he wished that his friends had taken the surface route.

The turbo-shuttles had once connected every city on Cybertron, Jazz had known all of them nearly as well as he knew Steelhaven, but they had fallen into disuse early in the war, and now lay almost forgotten, most were blocked, some were destroyed, but they had been so full of life once that Jazz felt saddened by their sheer emptiness. The tunnels were a pitiful place, but once they had been so vital to Cybertron's existence that they had almost felt alive.

Jazz's processor ached. He told himself that it was the echoes, and his sorrow, but he had a sneaking feeling that he was lying. He'd been caught in more than his fair share of explosions too, so that didn't account for the pain either.

"Sunny's found an access shaft," Sideswipe announced suddenly. Jazz tried not to flinch at the sound, but every noise seemed too loud.

"What about Hound?" Jazz asked Trailbreaker.

"He's closing fast, shouldn't be long."

"Then we'll wait here," Jazz decided. "Who knows how far it is til the next access, and we seem to be safe for now." Every word seemed to take more effort to get out, and the echoes they caused hurt his audios, but he couldn't let his friends see. He loved and trusted them, but he was still their commander, and they needed him to be strong.

The wait was agonizing, but when Sunstreaker arrived Jazz's only wish was that it had lasted longer. On a good cycle the golden warrior could be as stealthy as any of them, but Sunstreaker had scratched his paint, and been forced to run rather than fight. Jazz could hear his anger as he stomped toward them long before he started ranting about Seeker mentality.

Somehow he managed not to flinch away or cover his audios, but that effort seemed to take the last of his strength, and he soon found himself leaning against a wall for support. This didn't help much though as every vibration he picked up made him feel worse.

Breems, or maybe vorns later, Wheeljack touched his arm and pointed upwards. Hound was almost with them, and a moment later Jazz picked up the distant drone of her engine.

He tried to carry on as normal, issuing orders and making sure everyone else was okay, but he soon noticed that Wheeljack and Trailbreaker were trading concerned looks, and knew he didn't stand much of a chance against both of them. He loved them both dearly for all that they had given him over the vorns, but there were times when he wished that they didn't know him quite so well.

Once they were airborne again Wheeljack gave him a breem to make sure everything was in order, then quietly took him to one side. "What's going on Jazz?" he asked seriously.

"The blast rattled me is all," he muttered. "My helm feels like it's been used as a bell."

"It's more than that," the engineer snapped, "how are your data storage levels? 'Breaker told me about your little stunt on the Ops room. I really thought that you had learnt your lesson when it came to putting yourself in danger." He actually sounded disappointed, and Jazz found himself studying his feet the way he had when he was a youngling.

"I..." Jazz faltered, "I didn't think it would hurt this much."

Wheeljack rattled of a few adjectives that would have made a lesser mech's audios burn, Jazz had heard them all before, but they had never been aimed at him all at once.

"Everything I do makes it worse," he admitted.

"Then don't do anything. Lay down, shut up and let 'Breaker and I get you to Ratchet."

For once Jazz had no problems following orders, he doubted that he could have done much else anyway, but he couldn't help wondering what sort of fit Ratchet would pitch when they got back to Iacon.

Jazz was barely online by the time they got back to the capital. His whole body hurt as if he was being punished for some terrible sin, and every attempt at movement seemed to double his agony. Trailbreaker put an end to that torment by scooping him up, and carrying him to the med-bay, but he soon realized that his punishment wasn't finished with him yet.

He heard several mechs talking, some to him, others about him, some kindly, and some not, but he no longer had the strength to respond, and for a long time the only mercy in the world seemed to come from the gentle hand that held his the whole time.

* * *

><p><em>Just once<em>,Wheeljack wished as he left the med-bay at full speed. He'd wanted to stay with Jazz, but Ratchet had told him that Perceptor was the only one who could really help Jazz, and that he would appreciate and extra pair of hands. _If only I could leave Jazz alone without him nearly getting scrapped, I'm sure I'd feel better._ He knew that Jazz was no sparkling to be coddled, but he did have a knack for finding trouble.

He was both surprised, and relieved to see Bluestreak walking towards him. The young mech grinned, and suddenly the last cycle didn't seem so terrible. There was hope to be found, and Wheeljack threw himself into a tight embrace.

"What's happened?" Bluestreak asked desperately, "I saw that your shuttle was back, but none of you have even accessed the hub."

"You have to remember that most of what we do is classified Blue, we don't check in the same way regular soldiers do." Wheeljack explained, hoping desperately that Bluestreak wouldn't push for more.

"Can you tell me who's hurt?" Bluestreak pleaded.

"Jazz pulled one of his stunts," Wheeljack said unsympathetically. "He'll be fine, but I have to see Perceptor. Can I come to you when I'm done?"

"If you like," Bluestreak answered, with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm. At any other time Wheeljack would have stayed to ensure that the younger mech was okay, but while he was doing his best to remain resolutely unsympathetic towards Jazz, he also knew that he couldn't leave him to suffer.

The time Wheeljack spent with Perceptor felt more like an eternity than half a cycle, but they had known from the start that it would be a big project. No one had done more than upgrade or replace a few components since the hubs had been created lifetimes ago, but Perceptor's task had been to create a secondary, more secure version of the current installation. In Wheeljack's opinion the project was more like a work of art, but he knew that few mechs would appreciate it, but then, most of the Autobots would never know it existed.

* * *

><p>Back in the med-bay Prowl was growing impatient, it was an unusual experience for him, but then most things that connected him to Jazz were. It had been so long since Prowl had been in a relationship that he had almost forgotten what it felt like, the few 'facing partners he'd had in the intervening vorns didn't count, they had been there when he needed them, but no emotions had been involved. Jazz was different, he was a challenge, and a handful, but Prowl couldn't remember ever being so happy.<p>

He shifted his weight slightly, and cursed himself when Jazz moaned weakly. He'd made a mistake just after Trailbreaker laid Jazz out on the berth, instinct had made him reach for Jazz's hand, but it had been Ratchet who'd stopped him letting go.

"He's assimilated too much data," the medic had snapped, "every new stimuli will cause him pain, and I have no way of knowing which movement will irreparably damage his processor. Until Wheeljack and Perceptor are finished you're stuck there."

"Isn't there something you can do?" Prowl had asked, but Ratchet's glare was enough to silence him. Anything else he tried might not work, and any failure could be fatal. The entire situation was almost more than Prowl could comprehend. From what little he did understand about Jazz the mech regularly pushed himself to his limits, it seemed almost impossible that he had finally reached them.

It was to Prowl's great relief when a weary looking Wheeljack finally returned to the med-bay, almost a half of a cycle later, and announced that he and Perceptor had accomplished their task. And when Jazz's visor flickered back to it's usual cerulean blue a few breems later Prowl almost felt like jumping for joy.

Before anyone could welcome Jazz back online, Ratchet leaned in close and growled something pitched for Jazz's audios alone. Jazz had the good sense to look truly ashamed of himself, but he grinned at Prowl the moment the medic's back was turned.

Prowl decided that the best thing he could do was follow Ratchet's lead, and gave him a stern look in response. "You shouldn't have done that Jazz. It was far too dangerous."

"Flying into Nova Cronum was dangerous," Jazz corrected him, "trying to download a whole hub was just plain stupid."

"At least you understand that much," Prowl relented, but he couldn't quite help smiling. It wasn't easy to get mad at Jazz, his disarming nature was too contagious.

Jazz grinned, and to Prowl at least the world seemed a little bit brighter. "Please don't scare me like that again," Prowl said softly. He wasn't quite begging, but it was close.

For the first time since they had met Jazz's expression became solemn. Prowl had seen him look serious before, but this was different, and he got the feeling that few mechs had ever seen this side of Jazz.

"I can't promise you that Prowl," he said honestly, "but I'll do my best."

"Then I won't ask anymore," Prowl responded. He was surprised to find how much their simple agreement reassured him, but then Jazz had the knack for surprising him in the best possible ways.

* * *

><p>Much later, and with his processor running at a normal speed, Jazz let himself into Prowl's quarters. Prowl himself had made a detour to his office in his way back, but he had promised not to take too long.<p>

Jazz looked around, everything was exactly the same, which wasn't a surprise. He wondered if he should get Prowl a gift, something that the tactician could look at when Jazz was on a mission, the idea made him smile, but he wasn't sure what the gift should be so he filed that away for another cycle, and crossed the room.

A small panel on the wall was the only reminder for the outside world, it was part of the internal comms system, but could also be used to play music, and that was what Jazz wanted. Curiously he scrolled through Prowl's play-list, most of it was classical or traditional, and Jazz couldn't help noticing that there was a lot of choices which contained strong harmonics. There was very little new material, but the same could be said of Cybertron in general.

Jazz picked a few old favourites, mixed in others that he had never heard, and pressed play. Music filled the room instantly, and Jazz sank down against the wall to listen. The world, he hoped, was done with him for a while, and he wanted nothing more than to feel the rhythm.

His respite didn't last long, he'd only expected Prowl to be a few breems, but as it turned out it wasn't Prowl who interrupted him. The door chime should have been a clue, but Jazz didn't know how Prowl had his personal security set up, so it was plausible that with one mech inside Prowl would have to be let in. He never expected a Prime to be on the other side of the door when he signalled to open it.

Optimus looked down at him curiously. "Did you fall?" he asked.

Jazz scrambled to his feet. "No sir. I was just relaxing. Ratchet told me to."

"From Prowl's report I'd say that your down time was hard earned," Optimus observed. "My question is, do you think it was worth it?"

"The intel we retrieved was important. My team, and others, bet their lives that it might help end this war, not all of them won," Jazz explained, "I couldn't allow their loss to be a waste."

Optimus nodded solemnly. "We agree on that at least. I should tell you that I am here in an official capacity. With Nova Cronum gone Ultra Magnus has asked for reassignment. He will tell anyone who will listen that he is a soldier, and ill suited to command. I had hoped to boost his confidence by giving him responsibility, but it seems I must find another way, which leaves me without a Special Operations Commander, and that is where you come in."

"Me?" Jazz exclaimed. Forgetting for a moment that it wasn't his place to question a Prime. "Optimus, I..."

"The decision has been made Jazz," Optimus said sternly, but not unkindly. "You have the experience, and a well established unit to support you. I actually commissioned your promotion before you left for Nova Cronum, but you left sooner than I expected, and I missed the opportunity to tell you. Hopefully your first mission as an officer will prove to be the most dangerous."

"It certainly ranked in the top five," Jazz allowed, who still thought that the situation was absurd. Somehow in the space of a few processor-bending vorns he had gone from _the least responsible mech on the planet,_ as Trailbreaker had once named him, to a commanding officer who could truthfully say that he had been hand picked by a Prime.

The whole truth was that his commander's choice was more like a lack of options, and Jazz was still thinking about that when Optimus excused himself.

Jazz was still trying to puzzle out whether, or not, the conversation was a hallucination caused by his overtaxed processor, when Prowl let himself in a breem or so later.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Prowl greeted him.

"You've spoken to Optimus then," Jazz replied, taking some comfort in the fact that he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"I had to countersign the orders so I knew already, but we passed in the corridor. He said you were behaving a little strangely, and I reminded him who he was talking to. He seemed amused."

The last comment, delivered in Prowl's dry, even tone was enough to bring a fond smile to Jazz's lip-components. "It's good to know that he cares," he said softly, "my guess is that he was surprised to hear you talking about someone in such familiar terms. Everyone knows that you don't form attachments easily."

Prowl nodded in agreement. "Until recently the only mech I cared about was Bluestreak, my reason for being was to protect him, although I always knew that it was an impossible task. Then you came along, and I have the feeling that my life will never be the same again."

Jazz grinned, and pulled his lover into a deep kiss. "That much I can promise you."

* * *

><p>A.n: Yay, finally, I'd really hoped to get this chapter finished before Christmas, but work, shopping and festivities got in the way, so all I can do it wish you all a rather belated new year and apologise again. Take care, FB.<p> 


End file.
